


Queen of Naboo

by Ayame_no_kimi



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Other, and i mean slooooooowburrrrrn, asexual ben amidala, ben as queen of naboo au, moral relativity, slowburn, there's a lot of political intrigue going on and I have no idea about politics, think of hux as donald trump but prettier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayame_no_kimi/pseuds/Ayame_no_kimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first part is written in cooperation with <a href="http://ren-hime.tumblr.com/tagged/queen-of-naboo-au">Ren-hime</a>, who had the beautiful idea for this AU. For the second part I'm going rogue. 

</p><p>Contacted by Snoke the young Ben Amidala is shielded from any connection to the Force from the age of ten. Following in the footsteps of his grandmother he assumes the title "Queen of Naboo" and spends his life sheltered, but lonely in his palace on Naboo.<br/>
Leia's worst fear comes true when Ben gets abducted and taken hostage by the young General Hux from the First Order to extort concessions out of the Senate.<br/>
</p><p>Ben is cast into the world of the First Order with a cruel General Hux, a powerful Snoke, who hasn't given up on turning Ben to the dark side yet, and Kylo Ren, Snoke's mysterious and dangerous apprentice... 

</p><p>The chapter number is an estimate. This fic is going on a few weeks of hiatus with the start of September, but I hope I will be able to pick it up again in a while. 

</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_-_ _What’s your name?_

 _-_ _Ben._

 _-_ _Hi Ben. What are you playing?_

 _-_ _It’s a starship. One day I want to become a pilot._

 _-_ _That’s a nice dream, Ben. Do you like flying?_

 _-_ _I love it. And I love the stars. I want to travel between all the stars._

 _-_ _The stars are beautiful, aren’t they? I have been to many stars. Each and every single one has their own story._

 _-_ _You know the stories of the stars?_

 _-_ _Of course I do, Ben. Funny stories and sad stories and stories with wisdom and stories of bravery…_

 _-_ _How do you know these stories?_

 _-_ _The stars have told them to me._

 _-_ _You can hear the stars?_

 _-_ _Yes. They talk to me, all the time. Can’t you hear them, Ben?_

 _-_ _I didn’t know anybody could hear the stars._

 _-_ _Not everybody can hear them. But some people are special. Some people can hear the stars and talk to them. And if the stars really, really like those people, they will tell them their stories._

 _-_ _I want to hear those stories! I want to travel to the stars and listen to them. Do you think I’m special?_

 _-_ _I think you’re very special, Ben. Don’t your parents tell you that you’re special?_

 _-_ _My parents are very busy. They don’t have much time for me._

 _-_ _I am sorry to hear that, Ben. It must be lonely if your parents don’t have time for you._

 _-_ _I am lonely at night. When my mum and dad aren’t there, I go to the window and look at the stars. I talk to them and it feels like they are my friends._

 _-_ _See? I knew you were special, Ben. You already know how to talk to the stars._

 _-_ _And one day I’m going to fly to them and be their real friend._

 _-_ _You know, Ben, if you want, I could become your friend._

 _-_ _Really?_

 _-_ _Would you like that, Ben?_

 _-_ _I would like that very much. Can you tell me the stories the stars told you?_

 _-_ _Of course I can, Ben._

 _-_ _What’s your name?_

 _-_ _My name is Snoke. Nice to meet you._

 


	2. Ambush

The first blueprint of the Resurgent-class Stardestroyer had this hall designated for large assemblies with the higher-ranking officers and guests from the Senate, as well as representatives of planets in support of the cause of the First Order.

That is until the Supreme Leader decided that such assemblies would be unnecessary – what are holo-conferences for, after all? – and demanded that the space be turned into a hall solely for his own conferences with his subordinates. He himself would remain in the Unknown Regions, of course, so naturally he needed a room that would hold his oversized hologram and naturally that room had to be one of the largest on the ship. Never mind that in other parts of the Finalizer Stormtroopers now have to occupy rooms designed for eight people by the dozen. Never mind that the droid storage rooms are bursting at their seams and spare parts are lying around everywhere in the hallways leading to the lower decks.

But as long as the Supreme Commander is happy with everybody working their arses off for him without moving one finger on his own, why would there ever be a need to change things?

It is thoughts like these that Hux has to keep out of his head as long as he is standing in front of his superior who doesn’t have the slightest qualms to poke his prying fingers into everyone’s minds. He is good at keeping his thoughts shielded, but even after years of practice there is still a risk that one of his rebellious thoughts accidentally surfaces and he will be remembered as the general who cocked up everything and didn’t live to see the age of thirty.

Thoughts like why the heck has he been assigned to oversee the construction of a super-weapon that has the potential to turn the attention of the entire Senate of the New Republic towards them in an instant while antagonizing half of their supporters in the process? But if the Supreme Leader commands him to construct a third Death Star, General Hux will do his utmost to construct a third Death Star.

That is how things work, after all. That is how you become general of a new Empire at the age of twenty-four.

Most of his plans have already been discussed thoroughly, the outline of his next steps agreed upon, when Kylo Ren enters the hall.

She strides towards the platform from which her hologram will be visible to the Supreme Commander, black robes billowing around her ankles, and comes to a halt next to Hux.

“Luke Skywalker has been sighted in the Chonmel Sector,” she says without even casting a glance at Hux. “He has not moved from there for the last three days. With your permission, Supreme Commander, I will take my ship to meet him there and finish him once and for all.”

Hux groans. “The Chonmel Sector,” he repeats. “Why don’t you call it as it is? He’s on Naboo. You want to travel to Naboo. Does that mean that I have to fly you there just so you can get your arse kicked once again?”

She turns towards him. Not a muscle moves in her face. Her eyes are as cold as ever. The high cheekbones and the elegantly curved mouth would make her face beautiful were it not for those eyes that seem to belong not to a human being but something otherworldly and immensely powerful. Her stare sends chills down everyone’s spine.

“Do you doubt my ability to vanquish Skywalker?” she asks. “I have rid the Galaxy of half of his Jedi flock already. This time it will be him.” She makes a small gesture towards the staff on her back. Of course a disciple of the Force as arrogant as Kylo Ren cannot content herself with a simple lightsaber. Instead it had to be the staff with two blades instead of one. Talk about overkill. “He will never even see it coming.”

“You said that the last three times and then you had to return with your tail between your legs, because he beat the shit out of you,” Hux says. “Accept it. He is a war hero. Not even you can win against the person who has single-handedly destroyed Darth Vader _and_ the Emperor.”

“I don’t care about Vader,” she replies. A small frown hints at her irritation. Hux has never been good at refraining from riling her up, even if that is a dangerous thing to do. “He was a weak and foolish man. I will not make the same mistakes as him. Skywalker will fall.”

“Well, I can’t take you there,” Hux says. “We have to stay hidden from the envoy until they are at a place where we can trap them. Attack them too close to Naboo and we might get in trouble with their fleet. There is barely another place in the Galaxy where the Resistance is as openly prevalent as around Naboo.”

“I have never ordered you to take me there,” Kylo Ren barks at him. Hux opens his mouth to protest the “ordered” – he doesn’t take orders from anyone but the Supreme Commander – but she doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “Go kill your child queen. I can make this journey myself.”

“That child queen is a key figure in the Senate politics,” Hux hisses back. “Striking a deadly blow against Naboo will bring us considerable clout with our supporters. Killing Luke Skywalker furthers nothing but your personal goal to eliminate the competition.”

“The Jedi under the leadership of Luke Skywalker have foiled too many of our plans already,” Snoke intervenes. “Go, Kylo Ren. Kill Skywalker. General Hux will be able to take care of the Queen of Naboo himself.”

After they have left the Supreme Commander, Kylo Ren turns to Hux. “I really do hope that you will be able to eliminate one helpless little child by yourself,” she says. “I advise you not to let this mission end in shame for you.”

 _I have been able to deal with a woman like you, I will be able to deal with one little queen just fine_ , he thinks as he watches her stride off. He doesn’t say it of course. If there is one thing Kylo Ren really doesn’t like it is the insinuation that as a woman, she will always be underestimated by her foes. Ever since she arrived from Jakku to join the Supreme Commander’s side, a child the age of nine back then, mother- and fatherless, right out of the paws of the ruthless (and brainless) Unkar Plutt, she is said to have done everything to prove herself more dangerous than any man.

Quite successfully, Hux has to admit.

At least he won’t have to deal with her for the next few weeks. Her encounters with Skywalker usually go pear-shaped within the first hour, but she likes to take her time to return to the Finalizer. The ambush on the ship that, according to their local sources, takes the young Queen of Naboo from her home planet to the Senate on Hosnian Prime in the Core Worlds is estimated to take no longer than a week.

Captain Phasma is standing ready as he arrives at the much smaller Starship they intend to use as base for the ambush.

“The construction of the Starkiller has met so many dead ends lately,” she says and Hux flinches at her words. “If you would prefer to stay here to oversee corrections I could fly this mission myself…”

“Don’t you dare suggest that,” Hux growls. “I will take any excuse to leave this star-forsaken project for a few days. I need to do something productive or otherwise I am going crazy. Let’s kill ourselves a little queen.”

 

They decide to set the ambush on the border between the Expansion Region and the Inner Rim where traffic is sparse and no nearby bases can send emergency back-up for the envoy. The ships Phasma has designated for the mission are equipped with state-of-the-art cloaking mechanisms and will remain off radar until it is too late for their target to react to the attack.

It was pure luck that Hux has been informed of the envoy at an early stage that made it possible to even plan the ambush. They have had sources on Naboo for quite a while now, it is, after all, one of the most influential planets in the Mid Rim. Dignitaries make their way from Naboo to the Senate on Hosnian Prime or one of the other Core planets and back all the time. But to catch the envoy of the Queen of all people is an even greater feat than Kylo Ren killing Luke Skywalker will be. Never before has the Queen left her home planet. Never has anybody even seen her outside of her palace before. The whole mission has been held strictly secret, but then one of the handmaidens accidentally said the wrong thing to the wrong kitchen boy and that is how the First Order got message of the Queen’s plans to attend the Senate meeting held in ten days.

When the Starship is spotted by one of their reconnaissance TIEs Phasma has her Fighters surround them. The envoy ship tries several courageous manoeuvres to escape their attack and lands one admittedly brilliant strike against one of their TIEs with its laser cannon. But eventually the superior firepower of the First Order leaves them without any escape.

Hux boards the ship last, expecting to see the men of the Royal Guard of Naboo. To his surprise the commander Phasma leads him to is not the head of the Royal Guard but a Resistance pilot. He is standing on the bridge with a few of his other men, held at gunpoint by Phasma’s Stormtroopers.

“Why is the Queen of Naboo accompanied by members of the Resistance instead of her own men?” Hux asks.

The pilot stares at him with all the hatred in the Galaxy. “If you want to get to my Queen, you will have to go through me first,” he spits out defiantly.

Hux regards him coolly. “Name?”

“Poe Dameron.”

“Well, Poe Dameron, it was nice knowing you.” To the Troopers he says, “Kill them.”

“DON’T kill them!”

Hux lifts a hand to stop the Troopers, who have already taken aim, and turns around.

One of the doors at the far end of the bridge has opened and for the first time Hux lays eyes on the Queen of Naboo.

He raises both eyebrows. “Come closer,” he says and ignores Dameron’s cries at the Queen to run back and lock the door. “I can’t even see your face.”

When she hesitates he signals one of his men who stomps towards her. She flinches back but he takes her arm and drags her in front of Hux.

For a few minutes he simply stares down at the Queen. He finds himself rather speechless.

The ‘queen’ is a boy. It is hard to detect at first glance, since he is wearing a rather thick veil and the traditional makeup of Naboo on his face, but the signs are unmistakeably there. He is dressed in heavy red robes that almost completely hide his outline. Nevertheless, according to their sources the ‘queen’ is around sixteen years of age. No sixteen year old girl has that flat a chest and that narrow a hip. He is small for his age and frail. Tiny red crystals hover around his ankles, his wrists, and his neck. They look like either very fancy jewellery or even fancier chains. A heap of black curls emerges from under the veil and reaches into his neck. He has lifted his head to stare at Hux from beneath the veil, slightly shaking but nevertheless unwavering.

“You are the Queen of Naboo,” Hux finally states.

“I am,” the boy replies.

“You are a boy.”

“Of course I am.”

“I would have expected a girl. Seeing as you are a queen and all.”

“Queen is just a title. I am the rightful monarch of Naboo.”

“What is your name?” Hux asks.

“Ben Amidala.”

Hux raises an eyebrow. He already knew of course that the current Queen of Naboo is the grandchild of the former queen and Senator Padme Amidala, who died tragically in the prime of her life. Nobody has told him, though, that said grandchild is not a girl.

“Well, Ben Amidala. This is an ambush. What do you suggest we do with your bodyguards who have failed so miserably at protecting you if not kill them?”

“Let them go,” the boy responds. “Take me instead.”

“We were planning on doing that anyway.”

“No. Listen to me. You can kill me but what good will that do? They will only appoint the next queen if you do that. I will go with you as your hostage if you let my men go. I can be of great use to you, but you won’t get me to do anything for you if you kill my bodyguards.”

Hux regards the ‘queen’ thoughtfully. He is not stupid, that much is clear. Hux did not intend on taking hostages but what the boy says is true. He might be of more use to them alive than dead.

Next to him the pilot Dameron howls in desperation. “Don’t go with them, Ben! We will die for you, gladly, but don’t let them take you! You can’t do that to the general! Imagine what she will say if…”

One of the Stormtroopers strikes his blaster across Dameron’s head. The pilot stumbles, but he doesn’t stop howling.

“I will be okay,” the boy says and makes it sound like the bravest thing in the world. Apparently he likes himself in the role of the martyr.

Hux casts a glance at Phasma, but she is wearing her helmet, which makes reading her expression impossible.

“Fine,” he decides. “Why not?” They can still kill him if he proves useless. “You will come with us. Take his men, except Dameron, as well,” he instructs Phasma. “They will serve well to ensure his willingness to cooperate. Leave Dameron back on the ship and empty the fuel tanks. Somebody will pick him up for sure. He can report back to Naboo and to the Senate that we have the Queen of Naboo in our hands. That should make their stance towards us a bit more agreeable, don’t you think?”

He signals the Trooper who still holds the boy in his grip to follow him and turns to make his way back to his Starfighter.

The enraged howling of Poe Dameron follows him until he has left the Queen’s envoy ship.

 

Hux leaves it to Phasma to get the Queen into one of the chambers on the Stardestroyer, while his bodyguards are taken into cargo bay to be kept in one of the storage rooms.

An hour after they have taken course back to the Finalizer and the partially finished Starkiller, Phasma joins Hux on the bridge.

“He has settled in the room,” she reports. “He tries not to let it show, but he is rather shaken. If the rumours are true this is the first time in his life that he has left Naboo. I have to admit, I am rather impressed by his courage.”

“Don’t fall in love with the child,” Hux responds. “I half expect the Supreme Commander will order us to kill him as soon as we have reached the Finalizer. He doesn’t care much for the finesse of war politics. Super-sized weapons are easier to handle than living hostages.”

Phasma turns towards him and gives him a long look. She has taken off her helmet, which is rare. Did she hope the boy queen, hidden under a veil himself, would feel more comfortable with a face than a mask? “It is true that the Starkiller is about as blunt a wartime instrument as it gets,” she says. “Do you think there would be a smarter way to bow the Senate to our will?”

“Any way the Supreme Commander sees fit to deal with the Senate is obviously the only way worth considering,” Hux replies carefully. “But if my foes decided to put all their resources into one huge weapon to simply blast away everything they don’t like, expecting no repercussions whatsoever, I might have to laugh in their faces at their naivety.”

Phasma turns back to look ahead. Her mouth twitches. They don’t normally voice these thoughts. From time to time they slip in little words or half-sentences of depreciation, but nothing more. It must be the frustration, Hux decides. The last time they ran a trial round with the Starkiller on a small-scale model, everything seemed to work just fine. Now that they have reached stage two in the construction of the real deal, it turns out that the durosteel pillars they use are not strong enough to support the life-size version, that several of their hallways on the base accidentally make sharp turns upwards or diagonally – impossible for humans to use – and that the mass of the planet might just be too dense to support the kind of oscillation that is necessary to create the phantom beam. It will still take years for the Starkiller to be ready for use. They are still waiting for the day when the First Order can officially proclaim Starkiller Base their main base and move operations down there. Meanwhile the Resistance is gaining support.

Getting their hands on the Queen of Naboo might just be the best break they have had in a long time. Conveying how useful the young boy can be to the Supreme Commander, though – well, that will be an entirely different matter.

“I will have a little chat with our guest,” Hux says and turns to leave the bridge. “If anything happens, call me.”

The room Phasma has chosen for the boy has a bench, a chair, and a tiny, switched-off com-screen, nothing more. Ben Amidala is sitting on the bench, knees drawn up to his chin. He startles when Hux enters the room and immediately shifts into a more formal position, feet on the floor, back straight. He is still wearing his thick veil that makes his face almost indiscernible. The blood-red crystals around his neck, wrists and ankles twinkle in the light and move quietly in lazy spirals as if they had a life on their own.

Hux takes the chair and sits down.

“Is there anything you need?” he asks.

The boy shakes his head.

“What shall I call you – your majesty? Your royal highness?”

“Um.” His voice is much smaller and much less secure than back on his own ship. “Ben is fine, I think.”

“Very well, Ben. I am General Hux of the First Order. You are officially our hostage and at least until we have spoken to the Supreme Commander you are under my protection.”

That does not seem to do anything to comfort him. “My bodyguards…”

“They are being held somewhere else,” Hux says. “As long as you cooperate no harm will come to them. How well they are being treated lies in your hands alone.”

The boy lowers his head. “What do you need?”

“How about you take off that veil for a start? I prefer to be able to look at a person’s face when I talk to them.”

He shakes his head, vigorously. “No. Please, it is part of the official attire of the Queen. I can’t take it off in front of strangers.”

Hux frowns. He has never liked masks. They distract and make it so much harder to read a person’s expressions. There are more important matters at hand, though. He decides to let it slide for now.

“Now, I know that you are the grandson of Senator Amidala, but for some reason nobody has been able to tell me who your parents are. Care to enlighten me?”

“My parents are dead,” the boy responds quietly, without lifting his face. “They died when I was still a baby. I have been raised by the court on Naboo.”

“What about those crystals? They look like more than mere jewellery to me.”

He raises on hand and the crystals tinkle slightly. “I have a health condition. They help me manage it. I usually take medication as well, but your men wouldn’t let me take it with me. I don’t have a change of clothes, either.”

“We will find something for you,” Hux replies. “Although it might be a few sizes too large. As for the medication, you will have to live without it for a while.”

The boy lifts his head and looks at Hux. “Can’t somebody from Naboo be allowed on board to bring it to me? It is really important that I continue to take it.”

“For you maybe,” Hux replies and stands up. “Not for us. We will arrive at our destination in two days. Until then Captain Phasma will be available if you have any – reasonable – requests.”

 

Poe has not expected to be back on Naboo that quickly. The distress signal the ship managed to send out brought a trader’s ship his way barely two hours after the First Order had left with the Queen. He had to pay a rather high price for the rescue and the ride. Upon seeing that he was entirely without alternative the captain of the trader’s ship decided to take full advantage of his dire situation. But at least he has managed to escape.

Now he is standing at the Starship port, waiting for his boss to arrive. General Leia Organa, leader of the Resistance, left Hosnian Prime to meet him the minute she learned of the abduction of the Queen of Naboo. He has had several days to contemplate what to say when she arrives, but has quickly come to the conclusion that there is really nothing he can say or do to make the situation any less painful. Of course he will offer to give his life to bring the young Queen back. Of course he will promise not to rest and to mobilize any forces available until Queen Amidala is safely back on Naboo. Of course he will also offer to lay down his rank and his job at General Organa’s request. None of that changes, however, that he has allowed her worst nightmare to come true under his watch.

“Don’t look so glum,” the young woman next to him says. As his fellow Resistance fighter, Shana stayed behind on Naboo to oversee the departure of Luke Skywalker one day after Poe’s own departure. The whole thing was held up by another attack of the First Order and their dark Jedi disciple, but contrary to Poe’s utter failure, Luke Skywalker proved his superior skills once again and stroke his challenger down in a battle on board his ship. They did not manage to apprehend her, but at least Skywalker is safely on his way back to Coruscant.

“This might not be such a bad thing,” Shana continues. “Sure, the Queen has been abducted. But that means that the Senate won’t be able to sit idly by and do nothing anymore. This is a serious affront. Maybe we will finally get them to provide us with the firepower we need to teach the First Order a proper lesson.”

“I will still have to confess to General Organa that I simply allowed the Queen to be taken away,” Poe replies darkly.

Shana shrugs. “So what? You had no choice, really. And they haven’t met more than once or twice, have they? Why would the general care so much about one little boy?”

Poe doesn’t reply. It is a well-kept secret that Ben Amidala, Queen of Naboo, is the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo and the nephew of Luke Skywalker. If the First Order – or parts of the Senate for that matter – found out about his heritage, his safety would be almost impossible to ensure. Except for Poe only the highest dignitary on Naboo knows the truth about the little queen. He is not going to spill the secret now, not even to the most trustworthy of his colleagues. Of course that means that all the mind-numbing guilt he has been carrying around with himself for the last few days would only be met with utter incomprehension by the people around him.

Poe met Ben Amidala for the first time three years ago when the boy was appointed Queen of Naboo. From the very first moment on he was determined to give his life to protect the boy. Small, frail and beyond frightened by the new responsibility, the boy was not only the son of his revered general but also the most vulnerable human being Poe had ever laid eyes on. He would have gladly given up his job as Resistance pilot to become a member of the Royal Guard, but General Organa wouldn’t allow it. When she asked for a Resistance ship and crew to bring Ben to Hosnian Prime of course it was Poe who undertook the mission. They never expected the First Order to track down one single Resistance Fighter, seeing as they should have better things to do.

 _Somebody must have tipped them off_.

He has failed. He was the only one who could have saved the boy and at the most crucial moment he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even lay down his life. Remembering General Hux he is almost certain that the man ordered him to be left behind because he knew exactly what it would do to Poe. At least the rest of his men were taken along. Small as their chances may be, they can still try to free the Queen and escape the First Order. Poe, on the other hand, they left behind with no chance whatsoever to fulfil his duty.

 _They have taken him away and I let it happen_.

One helpless boy. Completely at the mercy of the First Order.

_If they ever find out about his powers…_

Before he can finish that thought the gleam of the general’s Starfighter appears at the horizon. It comes near quickly, descends onto the platform, and opens its airlocks.

General Organa steps out and, without any protocol, hurries towards Poe.

“Are you unhurt?”

It is almost too much to respond.

“Yes,” he replies. “Please do not concern yourself with me. I cannot apologize enough for what happened. I failed, General, when I should have died trying to…”

“Don’t be stupid,” she interrupts him. “You had no choice and what would your dying have changed? Please, Dameron, you have to help me get him back.”

He follows her inside the palace and to the Queen’s personal chambers. “I will do everything to get him back. We have contacted Skywalker as well, he will be here in a day or two.”

“Yes, I have spoken to him. He is very worried about the Queen’s condition.” She cannot even call her own son by his name lest they risk somebody finds out about their relationship. “Luke says the Queen needs his medication within two or three weeks and the next crystal charge in no less than six months, otherwise there is no telling what will happen.”

The guilt churning inside Poe’s stomach worsens. “We have tried to track their ships,” he says. “But they are perfectly cloaked. There really was no way to find out where they went. We are rather certain, of course, that they returned into the Unknown Regions, but right now our numbers aren’t strong enough to follow them there. An infiltration mission might work, though.”

General Organa frowns. “That is highly dangerous. I will speak to Luke as soon as he has arrived. For now, please, see if you can find out where Han is causing trouble right now. If possible, contact him and get him here. Fly there yourself if you must. That man couldn’t be bothered with showing up for the Queen’s sixteenth birthday, maybe his abduction will get him to move his arse.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi on [Tumblr](http://fyouhux.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Confessions

“We have received notice from the Senate today,” Hux says. “They have officially commenced negotiations for your release. They have appointed Senator Organa as liaison. I am surprised to find that she has even the time to bother herself with this issue. She seems so busy already, with leading her own little Resistance. But then, the Resistance has always had strong connections to Naboo. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you people are among their main supporters. Is the government of Naboo opening their coffers for the Resistance in exchange for protection?”

“That is classified,” the boy queen responds. He is still wearing his veil, but he has abandoned his makeup. Since he is dressed in clothes issued by the First Order, black trousers and a black shirt, it has become even more obvious that he is much too small and too thin for a sixteen year old boy. His voice is alternating between soft tones, rasps, and sudden drops, but he looks like he hasn’t had to shave even once yet. A sixteen year old boy, still looking like a twelve year old girl.

“Of course it is classified,” Hux says. “If it weren’t classified I wouldn’t have to ask. Our sources are capable enough to find out about the general situation. But you persuaded us to take you hostage solely with the promise of your cooperation. If not for releasing classified information to us, what else might your use be?”

They are back on the Finalizer. Phasma decided to put the boy in the empty guest chamber next to Hux’s own rooms, which didn’t suit him at all.

“I will be too busy on the Borderlands outposts to look after him,” Phasma argued. “Besides, the chambers next to mine are occupied. Would you prefer to quarter him next to Kylo Ren?”

That notion made Hux shudder and concede. Even as a hostage the boy was still a monarch. They couldn’t just bunk the monarch with the lower ranks. Now there are guards stationed in the hallway next to his door around the clock.

It is still Phasma who looks after the Queen. She doesn’t seem to mind the additional work. She reports to Hux regularly on her visits, but as long as there was no move from the Senate there wasn’t much to talk about. The Queen is a quiet boy who prefers not to talk about himself, who eats sparsely and spends his time reading the books Phasma has provided for him on a datapad. At least until now the lack of medication has not shown any obvious symptoms. Not that he would tell anybody what his health condition even is.

That means that, at least during the day (following the Hosnian Prime cycle. The cycle of the Starkiller sun really isn’t suitable for proper day-night-division), Hux hasn’t had to bother himself with the Queen at all. Nights are a different matter. The walls are thin and voices carry easily. The first night back on the Finalizer when he was startled awake by a voice crying out, he didn’t bother himself with it and went back to sleep as soon as the cries died down. He did the same thing in the second and the third night, but when the same occurrence would repeat night after night he finally got up, stumbled across the room to the door that connected his chambers to those of the Queen and opened it.

“What is going on here?” he asked before he could even find the light switch. The room was bathed in an eerie glow that let him barely discern the outline of the boy sitting on his bed, his long, black curls flowing down freely on his shoulders.

“Please don’t switch on the light,” the boy pleaded. His voice was shaking so hard that Hux barely understood his words. The reluctance of the boy to show his face irked Hux quite a bit, but he didn’t necessarily care for the sudden brightness of the electric lights so he gave up on the switch.

“You have been crying out every single night since you got here,” Hux said.

“I’ve just had a bad dream. I’m all right now.”

“You are having bad dreams every night,” Hux responded. “That isn’t normal.”

“Being attacked and taken hostage and threatened to be killed if I don’t comply isn’t normal,” the boy countered. “Is it so surprising that I might be having nightmares by all this?”

“Well, it’s disturbing my sleep,” Hux said. “And contrary to you, I cannot spend my entire day sitting around idly. I have to work. Try and be quieter from now on.”

The boy didn’t respond to that, but the next day Phasma shot him some weird glances.

“What?” he finally asked her.

“You cannot control your nightmares, Sir. There is no trying to stay quiet when you’re crying out in your sleep.”

“Oh, so he whinged to you about that?”

Phasma shook her head. “He was quite distressed. He is terrified of you, Sir, and now I think he is under the impression that if he wakes you up once more you will murder him.”

“I just might.”

Not that Snoke would care either way. When Hux reported to him that they had taken the Queen hostage instead of killing him because it might give them leverage against the Senate, the Supreme Commander had merely told him to use the situation as best as possible. He never even asked additional questions. As always he left the more nuanced political decisions to Hux and his subordinates.

Maybe the fact that they had just learned of Kylo Ren’s anew failure had erased all other thoughts from his head. Kylo Ren’s encounter with Skywalker – aka The Great Catastrophe – happened almost three weeks ago and Hux expects her back on the Finalizer every day now. He is almost looking forward to it. He can’t do it in front of the Supreme Leader, of course, but the prospect of throwing the “I told you so” in her face, even in private, leaves him in a rather giddy mood.

Nevertheless he will have to consult with the Supreme Commander again today on the matter of the Queen. Trying desperately to figure out what they could possibly offer the First Order to negotiate the release of Ben Amidala the Republic has offered them money in credits or shares, a more lenient stance on their armament policies or a seat at the Senate.

“He will go with the money or the armament policies, that is for sure,” Hux said to Phasma after his holo-conference with Senator Organa.

She gave him the side-eye. “And you would prefer the seat on the Senate,” she stated.

“Oh, I don’t mind any option, but yes, I think it might be a good idea to try our hand once again at the big-wigs-table. Ro-Kiintor and his faction are fine and work well enough in our favour. But ultimately they are not part of the First Order and will always put their own interests first. I wouldn’t mind an opportunity for a more direct influence. We have some fine officers in the First Order who would make a decent senator.”

“What about yourself, Sir?” Phasma asked.

Hux shrugged. “I have to oversee the Starkiller project, don’t I?”

“But that has never been enough,” Phasma pressed. “You don’t like the idea of eradicating the Hosnian system. You’d rather play with the Senate than get rid of it.”

“It's an interesting thought,” he admitted. “Certainly more interesting than sitting around and waiting for the technicians and engineers to work out all the kinks so we can finally continue construction.”

What he doesn't add is that he cannot see where it ends anymore. If they kill the Senate, they will still have all the remaining planets against them. How many will still tolerate them if they prove that they can just blast them away at the wrong move? Sure, the Starfleet is big and eradicating it will leave a big hole in the Republic’s defence, but it’s not the only fleet in the Galaxy that could cause them trouble. If their main means of defence is a weapon that destroys one entire system at once, how long will it take until they have obliterated every influential planet in the Galaxy? That is not a war of conquest, it is pure destruction. And if there is nothing left to rule, where do they go next?

“Yes, the Starkiller won’t be ready for several more years to come, Sir. Maybe finding something to do in the meantime is not such a bad idea.”

“See, and that’s another thing. We are putting any meaningful operation on hold waiting for that damned thing to be completed. The Hutt are getting impatient. Ro-Kiintor wants us to move faster. We could get more planets under our control and try to curb the influence of the Senate. Instead we sit around and wait for a weapon to be finished that might eventually just prove impossible to build. Yesterday when parts of the power conversion chambers caved in, the chief engineer couldn’t even tell us what went wrong. He just sat there and mumbled ‘it should have worked’ over and over again. I think he might have cried a little. We’re bringing in someone new next week, but that won’t solve all our problems.”

“If it is that important to you,” Phasma said, “you can still try to convince the Supreme Commander to allow you to take a seat at the Senate.”

Hux gave her a withering glare. “You just want to see me suffer, don’t you? You won’t even offer to come along with me to throw your weight in.”

“Of course not, Sir. I am on my way to depart for the Borderlands right now. The instruction of the new Stormtrooper units needs supervision.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“It might take a few weeks. Maybe months.”

Hux sighed. “That means you won’t be here when Kylo Ren returns. I will have to face her myself as well.”

“Indeed, Sir. But remember, you will have to blame no one but yourself if she Force-chokes you again because you couldn’t refrain from throwing her defeat into her face over and over until she cracked.”

With Phasma gone it was up to Hux to speak to the little Queen and that is where he is now.

“Naboo and the Resistance work closely together,” Ben Amidala reluctantly explains to him. “But Naboo still has to adhere to the armament terms of the Concordance. Our scope is limited. Naboo was one of the first governments not to fall into the trap of believing the First Order could be held at bay with appeasement politics.”

“What irony that they should now play such a big role in granting the First Order more power then,” Hux remarks with a smirk. The boy flinches at those words. This must be quite agonizing for him. “Why were you on your way to Hosnian Prime anyway? Naboo has their own senator already, what do they need their Queen for?”

The boy lowers his head. “I requested to be taken there,” he admits. “The Naboo Parliament wants me to become senator once my term as Queen is up. It is quite customary for the Queen to travel during her time in office to learn about the mechanisms of our foreign policy. I have spent so many years bothering myself purely with internal affairs that I felt I needed some experience with the Senate.”

“Senator, huh,” Hux muses. “That is quite an influential role. The Naboo senator has traditionally played a vital role in the Republic. After all, the Emperor himself started as a humble ambassador from Naboo.”

“I do not intend to become Emperor,” the boy mumbles. “But yes, it is quite an important task.”

“That should leave them rather concerned about you, don’t you think?” The boy looks up in alarm at those words. Hux doesn’t continue aloud, but he is slowly getting the impression that Senator Organa tried to start the negotiations for the little Queen at a rather cheap entry point. She will have to fork out a lot more concessions if she wants so see Her Majesty released any time soon.

“I would like to speak to my former bodyguards,” the boy suddenly says. “I have requested this with Captain Phasma several times but she told me you refused. I have told you what you wanted to know today. Now please, let me at least check that they are being treated well.”

Hux regards him for a while. He is kneading his hands, rather unconsciously it seems, and his shoulders are slightly hunched, but he is forcing himself to look directly at Hux. His big eyes are but an outline underneath the thick veil, nevertheless he keeps them trained on Hux without even blinking.

“I won’t allow you to speak to them in person,” Hux decides. “But you may have five minutes on the intercom.”

 

His new insights make the whole conference with the Supreme Commander rather easy.

“The Senate is trying to buy him out with offers that cost them barely anything,” he explains. “But the Queen of Naboo is worth much, much more. I propose that we send back one of his bodyguards without his head and wait for a better offer. We might be able to make them concede some real power to us.”

The Supreme Commander seems pleased enough with that suggestion. “Kylo Ren will return tomorrow. You will present the Queen to her. She can force more information out of her without having to ask her tiresome questions.”

Hux doesn’t bother with corrections. It is obvious the Supreme Leader still believes the Queen of Naboo to be a girl, no matter how many times Hux has already informed him that he is, in fact, male. It doesn’t matter anyway.

When he enters the Queen’s chambers the next day and orders him to follow Hux to the bridge, the boy is rather surprised. Hux realizes that this is the first time the boy is being allowed outside his room since they have arrived on the Finalizer.

“You surely have heard of Luke Skywalker,” Hux says. The boy nods. “Do you know what the Force is and that it is used by the Jedi?” The boy nods again. “Well, we have our very own dark Jedi on this ship and today she has returned from killing Luke Skywalker.”

The boy cries out and takes a few steps back. “She killed Luke?!”

Hux watches him with amusement. So he is one of those Jedi-fanboys, after all. They appeared in masses when Skywalker started his new training academy. Thousands of requests reached him daily from little boys and girls who had heard of his awesome feats and hoped to be Force-sensitive enough to make it into the academy. Nearly all of them had their hopes squashed, of course, but that didn’t mean that the children would stop hoping and pleading.

“She failed,” he finally relents. The boy seems on the verge of tears. “Your hero is still alive. But just because he managed to fend Kylo Ren off it doesn’t mean that you will.”

“Kylo Ren,” the boy says quietly. He is still shaking a bit. “I feel as though I have heard that name before.”

“She has made quite a name for herself,” Hux replies. “It is a title, of course, not even I know who she was before she became Kylo Ren. She will read you, so come along now.”

He is still not moving. “Is it really necessary? I will tell you everything you need to know, but please, don’t make me face her.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Hux says. “Either you start walking or I will have you dragged there, but one way or the other you will accompany me to the bridge.”

That finally seems to work. Hux has two of his men follow them, even though there really isn’t any place the boy could flee. He comes along obediently enough, even though he has grown completely quiet.

“So you have decided to return to us after all,” Hux says as soon as he has entered the bridge. “And here I was thinking your fourth defeat by Luke Skywalker has chased you away for good.”

Kylo Ren turns to him with burning rage in her eyes. “Make your jests as long as you can, General,” she hisses. “But always remember that you are far more expendable to the Supreme Leader than I am.”

Hux opens his mouth to counter, when a scream shuts them both up. He turns around. The little Queen who has followed him in his steps has broken down where he was standing and is now lying on the floor. His frail hands are tearing at his veil and he is screaming his lungs out.

Kylo Ren stares at the boy in obvious contempt.

“Can you switch that off?” she says to Hux. “This is rather unpleasant.”

“It is obviously you who has triggered that so if you want it to stop you might want to leave,” Hux replies. Ben is still screaming, but now there are sobs mixed in the cries and Hux is almost certain he can discern a few ‘No’s and ‘Please’s.

“There is no reason I should leave,” Kylo Ren says with indignation. “But I can’t read him as long as he is throwing a fit. Right now all I’m receiving is terror and pain. It’s deafening. Take him away, we shall try this another time.”

There was rarely another moment in his career when Hux wished for Phasma’s presence more than right now. He doesn’t want to play babysitter for the screaming bundle of panic on the floor and yet the person who is supposed to do it for him is already half a light-year away.

He squats down next to the crying little Queen and clasps his shoulder, but it is rather obvious that he won’t be in any condition to get up and walk any time soon. Cursing under his breath Hux gathers the boy by his legs and shoulders and lifts him up. He seems to weigh nothing at all, small and thin as he is.

The screaming dies down when he leaves the bridge and makes his way back to the higher ranks’ quarters. Quiet sobs take its place. Two slender arms sneak around his neck and cling to him desperately. A tear-streaked face, still covered by the veil, presses against his shoulder.

One of the guards opens the door for Hux. He enters, the trembling Queen in his arms, and eases the boy down onto the couch. He practically has to pry the little hands from his neck. When he straightens up and looks down, the Queen is a picture of misery. He is still dissolved in uncontrollable sobs and shivering so violently it rattles his teeth. He has slung both arms around his own body, digging his white fingers into his shoulders.

After watching him silently for a few minutes Hux takes off his coat and drapes it around the boy’s delicate frame. It is so big that he almost vanishes in it. He grasps the collar and pulls it closer around himself until Hux can barely even see the shock of black curls anymore.

He sits down on the chair opposite the couch and continues watching Ben Amidala as he is quietly crying into his coat.

“You know I am not going to leave until I receive a proper explanation,” Hux says eventually. “I know that Kylo Ren can be rather intimidating, but even the mousiest of all cowards hasn’t given us quite the spectacle you just displayed.”

Almost half an hour passes until the boy lifts his head out from beneath the coat, adjusts his veil, and begins talking in a tiny, shaky voice.

“I have nightmares.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Those nightmares you witnessed… they didn’t start when I was taken hostage by you. They began much, much earlier. In fact, I can’t even tell you for sure when I saw them for the first time. Initially they would only appear sporadically after an exhausting day or when I had a fight with my mother. But after a while they became more frequent. For the last several years I have had them every single night. It is always the same… dreams of a man, a stranger, but deep down inside I know it’s me. I see myself, as a man shrouded in complete darkness. He does things… unspeakable things. He descends onto planets and he kills people with his bare hands. He tortures them. He commands armies to wipe out entire villages. And in the worst of those nightmares he…” he takes a few shallow breaths “he kills my father. I kill my own father and there is nothing but darkness inside me and every night I awake and I fear that one day I will become that man.” He starts crying again, silent tears, and his voice grows even weaker. “And when I stood in front of Kylo Ren today I had the same feeling of darkness. It felt as though I was staring into my own future. I can’t become that, I can’t bear all that pain and loss and ... and I can't kill…” He is choking on his own words.

Hux sits quietly for a while, even as it becomes clear that the boy won’t speak any more on his own. He has heard of tales like this, but never from an ordinary person. Those are the kind of foreshadowing visions Kylo Ren and her Knights of Ren speak about.

“It sounds like a lot more than mere nightmares,” Hux says at last. “It sounds like you are catching glimpses of what a Jedi might become once he chooses the dark side. Not that I believe any of that crap, but certain people talk about it all the time.”

Ben lifts his head.

“In fact,” Hux continues, “I have never heard anybody talk about these kinds of premonitions who isn’t a Force-sensitive.”

He looks down on the little Queen and suddenly notices the blood-red crystals that are still tinkling around his neck, wrists and ankles, like he is seeing them for the very first time. And suddenly something falls into place.

“Those are kyber crystals.”

The boy shrinks back into the coat as though he could make Hux forget his realization if he just hid the crystals from his sight.

“You’re a Force-sensitive.” Everything comes rushing down on Hux at the same time. “But Kylo Ren couldn’t sense that which means that something is not quite right. What are the crystals for? They obviously don’t amplify your power. If anything I’d say they make you weaker. You’re much too small for a sixteen year old anyway. And the medication…” He stares at Ben in shocked disbelief. “They made you suppress your connection to the Force.”

For a long time he doesn’t receive an answer. Finally, almost inaudibly, “Yes.”

“But why? It’s obviously hurting you. Your growth is stifled, you are dependent on medication for your entire life… why would anybody force you to do anything like that?”

“I began to hear his voice when I was a child,” Ben reluctantly concedes.

“Whose voice?”

“What do you call him – Supreme Commander? He is a Force-sensitive, is he not?”

Hux nods wordlessly. The sudden flow of realizations has stunned him into silence.

“He spoke to me, tried to connect with me. My mother became suspicious, because I was not the only one. There were disciples in the academy who reported the same. She grew frightened and decided to block off the Force in me completely. She didn’t want that kind of life for me. Always on the look-out, trying to fight off the dark side while somebody was invading my mind. She made me wear the crystals. In combination with the drugs I took they cut me off completely. But I have stopped taking my medication a while ago and I am beginning to experience sensations that haven’t been there before. When I saw Kylo Ren I could instantly sense her power and the darkness in her. That should never have happened.”

“Can she feel yours?” Hux asks.

“The more the inhibiting power of the crystals dwindles the more she will be able to feel it. That is why Uncle Luke originally protested the Force-bonds, because he was afraid they might stop working at some point and then I’d be completely defenceless against…”

“What,” Hux says.

“What?” Ben asks.

“You just said Uncle Luke.” Hux frowns. “And you told me your parents died when you were a baby but you keep referring to your mother as if you knew her and you are terrified of killing your father as if he was still alive…”

The boy lets out a panicked breath.

“… and if the Supreme Leader tried to establish contact with you that means you must have shown immense powers… powers equal to those of… Luke Skywalker…” Dizziness rises in Hux. “You are the nephew of Luke Skywalker. You are Leia Organa’s son.”

Ben doesn’t reply which tells Hux more than enough. He slumps back in his chair. This is more than he ever expected. More than he could ever have dreamed for. The Queen of Naboo is one thing, but the son of Senator Organa and Force-sensitive nephew of Luke Skywalker might just be the most valuable hostage in the entire Galaxy. He has hit upon a gold mine of expanses so vast that he cannot even dare to estimate what he might accomplish by applying pressure at the right points.

_And to think I almost killed him_.

He will have to tell the Supreme Commander. Except that as soon as the Supreme Commander finds out about the true nature of their hostage, he will take Ben away for training. He has been searching for Leia Organa's disappeared son for years now. Once he has gotten hold of the boy, he will spend the next years torturing every thought of light out of the Ben’s head and turn him into a second Kylo Ren. That is, into another Force-wielding weapon with single-minded goals such as kill all the Jedi.

Hux doesn’t care about whether the boy is light side or dark side. If it were just for the brainwashing the boy into one of their own, he wouldn’t bother at all. But he knows the Supreme Leader too well. He will never see the value of the boy as a strategic figure against the Republic. He will continue with his mindless destruction of planets and people he holds a personal grudge against, such as Skywalker. The First Order will remain in the shadows and Ben Amidala will be turned into one more tool for the Supreme Commander to play around with.

_Except that at least for now I am the only one who knows_.

Get the boy out of Kylo Ren’s reach, make Senator Organa understand that he knows her secret, and he might just be able to squeeze some real concessions out of her before anybody even realizes what is happening right under their nose.

He leans forward again.

“One more question,” he says. “If you are Senator Padme Amidala’s grandson that means that Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa are her children. Now, Senator Amidala might have been many things but she wasn’t Force-sensitive. Your mother and your uncle are. Who was their father?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ben replies quietly.

“Never heard of him. He was a rather unknown Jedi I assume?”

“He later became known as Darth Vader.”

Hux bursts out in helpless laughter. There is only so much information he can obtain at once while keeping his wits. At some point there have appeared too many threads that suddenly demand to be connected. His brain is beginning to fume at the attempt to keep up with the speed he is learning all the biggest secrets around the final days of the old Empire.

“You are Darth Vader’s grandson,” he gasps. “No wonder Snoke was after you. No wonder they were trying to keep you away from the Force. They were probably terrified you had too much of him in you from the moment of your birth!” And then he realizes what he has just said.

“They were afraid you had Vader in you.” Hux stares at the boy, sitting in front of him, tears still running out of his eyes, only visible when they drip down from his chin and onto Hux’s coat. He is still shaking. His head is hanging so low all Hux can see is black curls.

“Snoke was after you, not because you are Luke Skywalker’s nephew. He was after you because you are Darth Vader’s grandson. Because he believes that you could follow his path. And your parents…” Could they honestly believe that? Could they honestly believe that a child could already show the disposition to one day become a force of darkness? Could it possibly be that Senator Leia Organa, the shining beacon of all that is good and just in the Republic, never even gave her own son a chance because she was too afraid he might have some unspeakable evil planted inside him from birth?

“How comfortable are these Force-bonds really?” he asks.

The question seems to surprise the boy. He lifts his head and stares at Hux. Finally he responds, “They are necessary. Comfort isn’t a concern.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Or maybe it did. Do you get sick? Is that why you barely eat?”

The boy nods hesitantly.

“Does it hurt?”

“All the time.”

“And you still get those nightmares.”

“Yes.”

“That sounds like a terrible deal.”

“It’s better than the alternative.”

Hux regards the boy for a long while. Then he stands up. He will need a lot of time to think and he will need Phasma back because this is more than he can work out himself. And he will really need to get Kylo Ren on another mission to have her out of the way for a while. And he will need an excuse for the Supreme Commander why the boy threw a fit the moment he laid eyes on Kylo Ren.

First talk to Kylo Ren, he decides. Find out whether she has sensed anything out of the ordinary in Ben. Then he will call Phasma back to the Finalizer. Or even better, travel to the Borderlands and take the boy with him. The construction of the Starkiller can be supervised from a distance just as well. Especially until the recent messes have been cleaned up.

“If anybody else finds out about what you just told me, even I can’t help you anymore,” Hux tells Ben. “Keep quiet and don’t talk to anybody. But at least for now you can rest assured that I will not spill your secrets to Kylo Ren or the Supreme Commander. Your fate hasn’t been sealed just yet, little Queen.”

The boy makes a tiny sound of surprise, but before he can say anything Hux has left the room and closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi on [Tumblr](http://fyouhux.tumblr.com/) ;)


	4. Borderlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is reading! I'm so glad you guys are staying with me through this story! 
> 
> Now, let's see, if we can get the little Queen out of his shell a bit, shall we? ;)

Kylo Ren has been ordered to travel to the Hoth System to take care of a Jedi ambassador who isn't Luke Skywalker and therefore might just be weak enough to be killed by her. When Hux suggests that to her she Force-crashes one of the little transport droids into the wall next to him. Controlling her temper has never been one of her strong suits.

“Maybe you should get even one of the Starkiller units to work properly before you start throwing stones at other people.”

“Because killing one single person and constructing a planet-pulverising super-weapon of unprecedented scale are basically the same thing,” Hux counters. “When will you begin doing something useful for the First Order for a change?”

“When you are done playing with your child queen and bother yourself with real politics.”

Hux was beyond relieved to find out that Kylo Ren did not sense anything in the boy yet. It might have something to do with her tendency to underestimate everyone who is not introduced to her as a superhero. Or her hatred for aristocracy. Allegedly she was dirt-poor in the first years of her life. She doesn't seem too keen on reading Ben again, either.

“Before I get anywhere close to that crybaby again you will have to beat the screeching out of him,” were her exact words.

Neither was the Supreme Commander impressed with Ben's performance.

“Kylo Ren's presence is extremely distressing to the weak-minded,” Hux explained and for the first time since he knew her she did not bother to contradict him. Apparently she saw it as a compliment.

“It is more important that we rid the Galaxy of the Order of the Jedi, anyway,” she added. “We can train as many Stormtroopers as we want, they will still fail even against a half-decently trained Padawan...”

“My men are being trained to prevail against any ordinary and Force-sensitive foes,” Hux flared up. “Don't think you are the only one who can kill a Jedi. Captain Phasma is overseeing the instruction of the new recruits as we speak and I will join her on the Borderlands in a few days. Those men will be more than enough to get rid of your beloved Jedi Order.”

“Do not lose the Starkiller out of your sight, General Hux,” Snoke cautioned him.

“The engineers are currently working on a way to reinforce the inner framework,” Hux replied. “But it will take time until we can start moving the bases. Right now the risk that part of the base will cave in and bury us is still too high.”

Eventually he convinced Snoke of his necessity to leave. He did not even mention that he would take the child queen with him. Nobody on board the Finalizer will miss him anyway.

Hux departs only hours after Kylo Ren has commenced her trip to the Hoth System. He takes one of the smaller destroyers. The Queen is less than enthusiastic about leaving his bodyguards behind on the Finalizer.

“Be grateful I did not actually cut off one of their heads and send it to the Senate,” Hux tells the boy as they board the ship. He has decided against that step after learning Ben Amidala's full identity. There are more effective ways of getting ahead in his game of extortion than severed heads, at least for now.

The boy sits next to him during the flight, his entire body stiff in nervous anticipation. The red crystals shine softly in the light.

“How long until they have to be charged next?” Hux asks.

The Queen looks up to him. He seems nervous to talk about the Force-bonds, or any of his secrets for that matter, to Hux. As if he could will Hux to forget the revelations from a few days ago.

“Six months,” he responds quietly. “Eight if I am lucky.”

“Well,” Hux says and turns towards the flight monitor, “that should be enough time to get the Senate to agree to our demands, then.”

Phasma awaits them on their first planetary base on the Borderlands. They have not bothered naming the planet yet, simply assigned it a number in the system. Everybody knows what they mean by first base, anyway. It is the training camp for the new Stormtrooper recruits, coupled with a radio transmission station, several mining sites, and a commander's unit. The latter is closely connected with the training camp and the place where Phasma receives Hux and the little queen.

“Initiation went well,” she tells Hux as they make their way towards the living quarters. “If you would like to oversee the exercises tomorrow.”

They still haven't managed to agree over the training schedule, with Phasma insisting that Hux's proposals are too rigorous and Hux insisting that Phasma concentrates too much on team-building and too little on personal drill. That might just be the reason why together they manage the training better than anybody else who has tried their hands on the troops.

Phasma has quartered the boy between her own and Hux's chambers and already deployed two men of her personal unit as guards in front of the door.

“It's not like you have anywhere to run out there anyway,” she tells Ben as she opens the door to his chamber. It is much larger than the one on the Starship, with its own proper bathroom with running water, a small bedroom and a living area. It even has a window that looks out over the freezing vastness of the rocky ice planet from a height of thirty-three storeys.

“The windows don't open of course,” Phasma says. “At night temperatures drop well below zero and even during the day they rarely rise above five degrees Celsius.”

“It is a bit cold,” the boy admits, shivering.

“You will get used to the climate. Of course in your own rooms you can raise the temperature if you like. But trust me, after a while you won't even feel the cold anymore.”

The boy doesn't look convinced.

“It's probably a rather big change from the mild temperatures on Naboo,” Hux remarks.

Ben doesn't answer. As always he seems to prefer the solitude over having to talk to Hux and so they decide to leave him alone for the day to get himself acclimatized.

 

On request of General Organa Poe participates in the next conference with the First Order general. Luke Skywalker, who has arrived shortly after his sister did, tried to insist on being included as well, but General Organa vehemently denied him.

“The less the First Order knows who is involved in this the better,” she said.

They have been arguing a lot in these last few weeks. Mostly about the Force-bonds.

“I told you from the very beginning it was a bad idea,” Luke likes to point out. “With keeping him from the Force you made a grave mistake. I begged you to allow me to train the boy. He would have made a fine Jedi. I could have taught him to control his fear and to fight Snoke's voice. He could have used his powers for good. With me as his teacher none of this would ever have happened. The First Order never would have gotten their claws into Ben.”

And so forth. It is hard for Poe to imagine the vulnerable little child as a Jedi. He is too gentle and he feels too strongly for those around him. Leia, despite the recent developments, is still insisting on the rightness of her choice and (even though he would never interfere in the fight between brother and sister) Poe agrees with her. Protecting the boy should be more important than making him into a weapon.

Now they are sitting in a small conference room, just him and Leia. Luke has finally agreed to leave the talking to them. Han Solo hasn't even arrived yet.

“I'm on my way, I'm just in a bit of a hassle right now,” is usually what they hear when they urge him to speed up his arrival.

When General Hux's face appears on the screen at the wall, Poe has to clench his teeth to bite back the bile. He rarely really hates anyone but this man does it. Today is even worse than on the ship. Today he doesn't just have victory written all over his face. Today the smug gleam in his cold blue eyes reminds Poe of a cat with a bowl of cream.

They exchange greetings without Poe averting his eyes from the man's face even for a second.

“I have considered your proposal, Senator,” Hux drawls. “But I am afraid I must decline either of your offers. Surely the Queen of Naboo is worth more than anything you have offered us so far?”

“The offers were appropriate, General,” she responds. “I am afraid we do not tend to overly encourage extortionists. There is nothing more I can give you in exchange for the Queen.”

“Maybe not the Queen,” he says. “What about the future senator of Naboo?” Poe holds his breath. Nobody is supposed to know that. While the role of the Queen is important enough for the internal affairs of the planet, the senator is an entirely different matter, as he represents Naboo on all the intergalactic assemblies. Mainly, of course, the Republic Senate.

“I don't know what you are talking about, General,” Leia Organa says. She hasn't moved a muscle. Once again Poe has to admire the perfect control this woman displays whenever dealing with a difficult opponent. “The senator is not chosen at random, he is elected by the people. It would be impossible to determine who it might be in the future. But even if you were right and Queen Amidala was considered as candidate, it doesn't change the fact that the offers we made you were suitable for an official dignitary of the highest rank. What more do you want from me?”

“How about you throw in something extra for your son?”

The planet stops spinning. The world turns black. Suddenly Poe has a ring in his ear that blocks out everything else. After what feels like a century of pure dread he returns slowly to the here and now only to find that Leia has neither moved nor spoken. Her eyes are wide in shock. Not even she is able to hide the effect General Hux's words have on her.

“Because you can go on denying us a deal that we deem acceptable, but over a month has passed already. How many more until your son won't be able to hide his powers anymore? Right now our Supreme Commander has no idea what a fat little mouse is sitting right beneath his paws. Will you risk him finding out?”

General Organa draws in a few shaky breaths. “What do you want, General?” she finally whispers.

He ticks off his fingers. “Access to the southern transport routes. Clearance to make official business with the Banking Clan. A share in the Core Worlds mining conglomerate. Permission to strike a deal with the Arms Emporium with strongly relaxed regulations. And of course a standing offer for a seat in the Senate.”

He really isn’t shy milking the situation.

“I will try my best,” she promises, her voice still a shaky mess. “But most of this will have to be approved by the Senate. It is impossible for me to grant you these demands on my own. My power is limited, General.”

“Then I advise you to get to work soon,” the general responds with a cruel smile.

“Please, General, tell me if he is well. He is not used to rough treatment and he is in pain...”

She has dropped all pretences. Seeing Leia Organa like this is almost physically painful to Poe. Nobody gets her to beg and nobody gets her to admit her weaknesses. The fact that the First Order general has forced her into this position makes Poe seethe with rage. If he ever stands before that man again he will kill him without mercy.

“Your son is kept safe. Whether he will remain that way is up to you,” the general replies.

“And your Supreme Commander doesn’t know? About who Ben is, about his connection to the Force…”

“Not yet. He doesn’t know a single thing about the Queen yet. You can make sure to keep it that way by working your magic with the Senate.” The Senate that hasn’t even acknowledged the First Order as any kind of threat, yet.

“What about Kylo Ren? Does she know?”

“No. You couldn’t possibly believe that I told Kylo Ren but somehow managed to convince her to keep it a secret from the Supreme Commander? Only I know. For now.”

As soon as the conference is over and they have disconnected, Leia buries her head in her hands. Poe lays an arm on her shoulder. He feels like crap himself, but supporting the general is more important right now.

“They know,” she finally whispers. “They know about Ben, Poe. How could I let that happen?”

“It is my fault,” he replies. His voice sounds strangely husky in his ears. “I let him get taken away. If only I had protected him…”

She shakes her head. “Luke was right. I should never have tried to keep him away from the Force. I should have sent him to training. He could be a Jedi by now, fully trained and capable to take care of himself. Instead I denied him the best means of defence he ever had.”

“Don’t say that,” Poe urges her. “Kylo Ren has killed too many Jedi and Padawans already. If you had sent Ben to training, who knows whether he would still be alive? What if she had found him and killed him? He was better off on Naboo, where you could protect him.”

He wants to add that everything will be all right when the door opens and Skywalker walks in. His eyes are positively sparkling.

“Han is here,” he says.

So he has finally decided to show up. Leave all the important tasks to his wife as always and then, when it is time to take the spotlight and save the day, swoop in and act like the whole star system rotated around his heroism. Easy enough to not be there for your son for the first sixteen years of his life but to come running the moment he doesn’t actually have to interact with him. That way it is much easier to hide his disappointment at the soft, shy person his only child has become.

Poe follows Leia out of the conference room and towards the hangar where Han Solo is standing in front of his beloved Millennium Falcon, his furry first mate next to him, and chatting up Poe’s fellow Resistance pilots.

Everything is forgotten the moment General Organa sees him. The years of fighting, the tears, the screams, the messy divorce. She rushes towards him and he catches her in his arms.

“Oh Han! They’ve got our son!”

 

“Soon we can start taking them out to field training,” Phasma says. “They do well enough in an icy climate already, but we will have to see how they work in forest terrain with lots of coverage. And deserts. And on Destroyers, of course.”

They have everything necessary available in the surrounding star systems and as always, they agree on Phasma taking out the units one by one for the field training and on Hux staying behind with the rest of the recruits to continue their normal routine.

“Will you be able to take care of Ben as well?” Phasma asks. She has spent most of her free time in the chambers the boy is confined to since Hux has explained to her the details of his background. She was just as surprised as he was. In the beginning he thought she was trying to coax additional information out of him, but after a while he found out that she really just did it to keep him company.

“I don’t see how there is much taking care of to do,” Hux replies. “I don’t even get how you can bear to spend all that time with him. He barely talks and doesn’t the veil drive you crazy?”

“He doesn’t wear his veil when he is in his rooms,” she says, a bit confounded. “At least not when I am around. Has he never taken it off in front of you before?”

That doesn’t do much to improve Hux’s mood. “No, he hasn't,” he returns sourly.

Phasma shrugs. She is without her helmet again. Apparently getting the Queen to lift his veil for her makes her feel like dropping her own mask as well. “Well, he still seems rather afraid of you. Maybe it would do you two good to spend some time together.”

“I am not trying to make friends with the boy.”

“If he doesn’t talk you can take him down to the flight-control rooms.” She completely ignores his remark. “He likes it there and the control personnel loves him.”

“Doesn’t the veil drive _them_ crazy?”

“He usually takes it off when he talks to them.”

“So it’s just me then.”

“Apparently,” she says and shoots him a curious glance. “If it vexes you so much, why don’t try to get him to trust you a bit more? Maybe he will take it off when he feels more comfortable around you.”

“Go and train your troopers,” Hux grumbles.

The supervision of the Starkiller, even if it is just approving the appointment of a new team of engineers and checking the creeping progress of the other construction units, in combination with overseeing the training of the recruits, fills out his schedule to the brim already. Nevertheless he decides to check in on the Queen a few days later. Maybe he can catch the boy unawares and without his veil.

No such luck.

“It really is just me, isn’t it,” Hux remarks. “You are willing to show your face to everybody but me.”

“I generally don’t like to show my face,” is the noncommittal response. The boy’s voice is still quiet enough to make listening to him an exhausting task. At least he has stopped wearing several overcoats at once. He still freezes more than anyone else on the base, but he seems to have acclimatized enough to content himself with a shirt and a jumper. “At home I never met a person of influence without it.”

“Why, is the Queen of Naboo that uncomely?”

“It’s not about beauty.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know if I can explain.”

“Is it because you are royalty? That nobody is worthy enough to catch a glimpse of the Queen’s face? Can’t let them think you’re an ordinary human, just like the rest of them, after all.”

“No!” His voice is turning panicky now, but at least it makes him easier to understand. “That’s not it. Maybe for former Queens, yes. But I… I just grew up with it. I have worn this veil for years now. After a while it becomes hard to simply take it off.”

“You don’t seem to have any problems with showing your face to Phasma or the guys down in flight-control.”

“It’s easier if I feel safe around a person and if they are not a dignitary.”

“You don’t feel safe around me.”

“I feel very much that you are doing everything in your power to not make me feel safe around you.”

“Fair enough.” Hux leans back in his chair and regards the blurred outline of the boy’s face beneath the veil. “Still having nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“See, in my experience, people wear masks to bring distance either between themselves and other people or to themselves. Now, you seem ready enough to show your face to people you feel comfortable with. Which makes me wonder, are you so afraid of yourself? Of the person you might become if you give in to the dark side that you feel only a mask can help you keep up that person that you’re so desperately trying to be instead?”

Even through the veil he can see the boy’s eyes widen at his words. He doesn’t answer, which, as Hux has found out by now, is usually a sign that he is on the right path.

“You show the people your mask because you fear that without it you might be a person you won’t like. And much more important, they won’t like,” he continues. “It makes you feel safe, even more from yourself than from the people around you. Now tell me, how long will you be able to uphold that mask before you will be unable to tell the difference between what is you and what is that persona the mask represents?”

“It’s not a persona,” the boy protests. “This is me. I will never become that person in my dreams! I will never go over to the dark side.”

“What if the Force awakens inside you and you find out that it has been within you all along?”

No answer.

“What if you find that there is darkness inside you, carefully suppressed and hidden away by your parents, not to keep you safe from evil, but to keep the world safe from you?”

“My parents wouldn’t do that,” the boy whispers but Hux can hear the tears in his voice.

“You don’t seem convinced. Is that what they are afraid of? Is that what you are afraid of? That there really is too much Vader in you?”

“There is no Vader in me!” Now he is actually crying. “I’m not that, I don’t believe in the dark side! I would never become that person, the Force can’t change that!”

Hux stands up. “Then why is the veil so important? Or the Force-bonds for that matter? If your parents are certain that you won’t be swayed by the dark side, why don’t they take them off and trust you to deal with the results yourself? ”

As expected, the little Queen doesn’t answer and Hux leaves his quarters without getting another word out of him.

“Well done, Sir,” Phasma scoffs at him upon her arrival. “I have advised you to try and make a connection with him and you make him cry. Very you indeed.”

“I wasn’t trained for this,” Hux mutters as he inspects the troopers who have just returned from the next star system. “I should let someone else keep him company.”

“He has asked me several times already to be allowed outside his rooms,” Phasma remarks. “If he were able to walk the base he might find more courage to open up a bit more.”

“Too risky,” Hux says. “What if he runs out onto the planet and freezes to death? Or hides himself for days and causes chaos. Or, even worse, manages to sneak upon a Starship and vanishes into the Galaxy. What do you think his mother will say if I have to admit to her I lost her son?”

“You know we have devices to prevent that.”

“I just don’t see the advantages of letting the boy roam freely. He is a hostage, he shouldn’t expect to be treated any different from the way we treat him now. He has spent his entire life in one palace, he will survive a few months confined to one room.”

“There also is no risk in letting him out of that room, Sir. Let him spend some time in flight-control. We have a library as well and he could eat with the staff instead of alone. It might do him some good. Besides, it means that we can entertain him without having to supervise him every second.”

He sighs in defeat. “It sounds like a horrible idea to me. Are you willing to take responsibility for anything that might go wrong, Phasma?”

She smiles at him. “I am willing to bet you that nothing will go wrong whatsoever, Sir.”

“Let’s just make it a week without interruptions.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

Several days later a small package arrives from their base for technology and research. Package in hand Hux makes his way to the Queen’s chambers.

He opens the door and steps through, only to stop dead in his tracks as he looks up.

Phasma and Ben are sitting on the couch, deep in conversation. Or rather, Phasma is listening intently, a gentle smile playing around her lips. Ben is the one doing the talking, not only with his mouth, but with his face and his hands as well. Big brown eyes are set on Phasma with such concentration that he doesn’t even seem to notice the intruder. His nose and mouth seem way too large for his angular features. His hands are all gestures. It is a small wonder he hasn’t knocked anything over or struck Phasma in the face yet. She remarks something and he laughs and his mouth seems to take over half his face. When he isn’t flourishing his hands he cards them through his hair that frames his face in thick, black curls and falls into his eyes, no matter how many times he pushes it away impatiently.

Hux stands and watches them for several minutes until Ben turns his head and notices him standing in the door. His eyes widen for a moment and dart across the room to the veil that is lying discarded on an armoire next to Hux. Too far away to reach now.

Ben looks back at Hux and the surprise in his features softens as he pulls his broad red lips into a shy smile.

“The package has arrived,” Hux says and comes closer. He drops himself into the chair opposite Ben and a grinning Phasma and shows her the parcel.

“I am so glad you came through,” she responds.

Ben raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Stretch out your arm,” Hux orders him as he opens the package.

Ben hesitates. Phasma gives him a small nudge.

“Go on,” she says.

He offers Hux his left arm, still unsure what is going on. Hux fastens the thin metal bracelet around his wrist and seals it with his thumb print.

“It’s a tracker,” he says. “I am the only one who can open it so don’t even try. It will alarm me when it’s damaged. It will also alarm me when you are going places you are not allowed to go.” He shows him the second part of the delivery; a small monitor with a red lamp and speaker holes. The noise it emits when triggered is unnerving as hell but at least it is guaranteed to alert Hux to any suspicious behaviour.

Ben is showing him a confused frown.

“We are letting you out of your room,” Phasma explains to him and the frown turns into a hopeful gleam. “From between 8:00 and 20:00 you are allowed to walk anyplace inside the base that isn’t restricted.”

“Except the hangar,” Hux adds. “You are not permitted anywhere near the Starships.”

“And the military training area,” Phasma says. “You wouldn’t be able to use any of the weapons anyway, you need clearance for that. But even though our Stormtroopers are trained to hit their target with 99% accuracy, stray bullets still do happen. We wouldn’t want you to be shot dead by one of our new recruits, after all.”

The gleam turns into a full-fledged smile. “I’m allowed to go out? By myself?”

“Yes,” Hux says reluctantly. “But remember, this is a privilege not a right. As long as you behave well, you might keep that privilege. If we find you use it to cause trouble I will have no problem locking you back into this room.”

He is not sure whether the boy is even listening to him anymore. He stares at his wrist where the shine of the kyber crystals is reflecting in the metal bracelet. “Thank you,” he whispers.


	5. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody who's been reading/leaving feedback! It always makes me so happy to know you enjoy this!

“We can make the conversion happen,” the new chief engineer explains to Hux. “But we will need to move the oscillator. It's in terrain where the sediment is getting in the way.”

“The oscillator is built already,” Hux says. “Moving it now would cost us billions.”

“Then I am afraid we will have to find another planet, Sir. Relocating the oscillator is the only way we can converse that much power. Otherwise the thing will overcharge and blow up before it is three quarters charged.”

Finding another planet will be even more costly, Hux knows that. “And you are sure you can make it work once you find a proper spot for the oscillator?”

“Positive, Sir. We have evaluated the whole planet and the best spot would be precinct forty-seven. The ground is ideal and right now there is nothing else we need to build there.”

“I don't like it,” Hux says. “Precinct forty-seven is too vulnerable. It's an open field, almost defenceless against any kind of aerial attack. We chose the fifteenth precinct precisely because it was a mountainous site. The hills and forests make it almost impossible to strike a targeted attack from anywhere.”

“Well, you have the defence shield, don't you, Sir? That is completely impenetrable. Shouldn't that be enough? I doubt any ship below light-speed could ever pass through the net and really, who would be stupid enough to enter the stratosphere at light-speed?”

“That would be suicide for sure,” Hux has to reluctantly agree. “Let's try this on a model first, before you tear out the entire construction and lay it down somewhere else.”

The Supreme Commander is pleased to hear about the progress. Naturally he has another holo-conference hall on the first base.

“The weapon will be ready soon and then we will wipe out the Republic,” he cackles.

“In a few years,” Hux responds. Sometimes he is not sure whether Snoke has any perception of time at all. Nobody knows the age of the Supreme Leader, but from the way he speaks sometimes one could almost think he has been around since the days of the Old Republic. But that would be impossible, right?

“Yes. I am positive that until then Kylo Ren will have destroyed the Order of the Jedi. She is very determined.”

Because destroying a bunch of self-appointed vigilante is more important than getting the Hutt to open up their coffers for a couple of new – and desperately needed – TIEs. What good is a mind-controlling dark Jedi when she can't even use her powers to get them a few loans?

“How are the negotiations with the Senate coming along?” the Supreme Leader asks.

“We are making good progress. I think in one or two months’ time we can make them concede a relaxation of the Concordance regulations. If that is the case it will be much easier for our supporters to provide us with the arms power we need to advance further into Outer Rim territories.”

“Is the Queen behaving herself well? I am sure she is terrified by her situation.” That thought seems to cause him a perverse pleasure.

“Trust me, Supreme Leader, he is.”

 

“He is eating with the trainees,” Phasma remarks.

“Great,” Hux responds, bored. He flips through the recent report on the Starkiller without really reading. The whole project has come to a halt since they have decided to relocate the thermal oscillator. It will take months before anything else can be done. Finishing the construction of the oscillator is vital for all further planning. “I am sure the trainees are beyond themselves in their joy.”

“No, Sir, you don't understand. He is _eating_ , with the trainees. Three meals a day. That is a rich diet he is getting there. Compared to the sparrow picking he was doing with his food before, he is finally getting some proper nutrition. Even more so, the staff tells me he is helping out in the kitchen and they are feeding him extra portions. Because he is so small and thin.”

“The boy is eating like any ordinary teenager,” Hux retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What a cause to rejoice.”

“It is, Sir. I have put him on the health-check schedule for the Troopers and his results say that he is finally approaching a healthy weight. He is growing, too, soon he won’t have to look up to you anymore.”

Hux gives up on the report and looks up, frowning. “Why put him on the health-check schedule?”

“Because I wanted to make sure that the lack of medication didn't have any sudden side effects. As it turns out, not only has his appetite been stifled until now but his growth has been affected as well. The stress triggered by the drugs and the constant pain from suppressing his Force-connection has put a severe damper on his hormonal release that is now being relieved.”

Hux groans. “Are you trying to tell me that his puberty is catching up to him? It really is time we get him back to his parents. Put him back on his medication before he goes on a rampage through the base.”

“Really, Sir, how bad can it be? He is such a quiet kid, can you imagine him going on an actual rampage? Everybody loves him. Not just the kitchen staff, but the flight-control personnel as well and the attendants at the library tell me he comes by regularly and they so enjoy the insights he shares with them.”

“I warned you not to get too attached to the boy,” he says. “You won’t be there for him when he grows up, even if his parents decide to take him off his medication. That is their job, not yours. Your job is to train your recruits and as chance will have it there is a new batch of them waiting for you to take them to the desert base tomorrow.”

Phasma has seen it all, he knows it. She has trained hundreds of boys of all ages and she has always managed to distance herself from them. Some of them have been killed. Some have been executed. She has never once shown any inclination to let their deaths compromise her work. She will get over this boy as well, once they have delivered him back to his mother.

“When will you speak to the senator again, Sir?” Phasma asks.

“Sooner rather than later. The faster we can get them to agree to our demands the less risk we run to be found out by the Supreme Leader.”

Phasma rests her eyes on him for much longer than he likes. For somebody who is not in the least Force-sensitive her ability to read his thoughts is sometimes downright scary.

“You know,” she says, “the larger part of the troops is loyal to you and me, not the Supreme Commander, and...”

“Don't you dare even think about finishing that sentence,” Hux interrupts her sharply. “In a few weeks the boy isn't ours to worry about anymore. As soon as you move into the next training phase I will return to the Starkiller and things will go back to normal.”

As much as Ben seems to like turning all of Hux’s staff into love-stricken admirers of his, the place he is most likely to be found during the day is an outdoor court on the twenty-ninth floor where he stays, alone, for hours at a time. It is cold out there and apart from a bit of colourless moss between the tiles there is no green anywhere to find. It serves as an outlet point for the ventilation systems, nothing more. But the sky around here is breath-taking, even Hux has to admit that. The sun rises late and sets early. Most of the day the sky is covered in dark red and purple streaks and far in the distance a large nebula is glowing, illuminated by the surrounding stars in all colours of the universe.

“I love these stars,” Ben says as Hux steps into the courtyard. “I learned all the better known stars in the Galaxy when I was a child and was able to identify each one, at least from the view on Naboo. But these are completely new. It's like catching a glimpse into a different world.”

“You’re still a child,” Hux says. Ben seems to have discarded the veil for good. It makes it easier to see the soft gleam in his eyes that are still fixed on the sky. The red crystals that remind Hux much more of chains than of jewellery by now still trail around his skin in lazy circles, but their glow has grown considerable darker. “Do they still keep the Force away from you?”

“They still shield me,” the boy replies. He looks down onto the crystals around his wrist. “But I am beginning to feel things. People around me, currents of energy. Every star has its own signature. It’s almost as though they were alive. Ancient living beings, billions of years old, and most of them have witnessed the entire life of the Galaxy. Full of untold stories, all of them. I thought it was a lie, but now I am beginning to think that he might have hidden some truth in his tales after all.”

“Who did?” Hux asks.

Ben doesn't turn around. “Somebody I knew from my childhood. He told me stories of the stars. When he was gone I thought he had made it all up. He made me forget how loneliness feels for a while, but afterwards it just felt so much more intense all of a sudden.”

“Come inside,” Hux says. “It's almost curfew. I’ll take you back to your room.”

Ben follows him without complaint.

“Maybe he’s the doctor,” Hux adds as an afterthought. “Most certainly sounds right.”

“Hmm?” Ben turns and looks up to Hux. “Doctor who?”

“Well, he’s fictional anyway,” Hux says. “But he would be the kind of guy to prance around the stars and talk about how they’re alive and have all kinds of secrets.”

“That sounds nice,” Ben says quietly. “Maybe it is based on a true story.”

“No it's not. Researchers on Coruscant have been working for years on technology for a confined space that is bigger on the inside. And nobody has figured out how to travel through time yet.”

“We are travelling through time as we speak,” Ben says.

“Don’t be a smart-ass.” Hux opens the door to Ben’s room and the boy obediently vanishes inside. “Phasma will be back in a few days. Tell your childhood memories to her next time.”

 

The next day they receive notice from Kylo Ren, who has decided to lead a mission to Abafar on the Outer Rim.

“We were contacted by the Hutt. They are interested in the Rhydonium,” she informs Hux via communicator. “You might be in luck, General. They said if we bring the planet under our control they might just allow us the necessary credit for those TIEs you requested.”

Interacting with Kylo Ren is usually much less tiresome when she is several light years away.

“I can send Phasma to join you,” Hux says. “We should have enough men here who will be ready for a real fight. Training has been going on long enough.”

“As always you show no interest in joining us on the battlefield I see,” she remarks.

“If you feel that you need me to wipe out a few miners and subdue a couple of primitive villages, you just need to say so,” Hux retorts. “I will gladly blast away all those pesky little targets that are too far away for your lightsaber to reach.”

“It's a quarterstaff, General. And the day I need you will be a pitiful day indeed.”

 

Chance will have it that a shipment of new blasters arrives the day Phasma returns from field training. Hux decides to wait for her at the hangar and use that opportunity to inspect the new weapons himself. There is a certain beauty to a new gun that has never been fired. He strokes his fingers along one of the barrels. The trigger mechanism is new, now they can actually check whether the weapon has been fired and how many times. It was Phasma’s idea, to ensure that even in the chaos of battle they could find out whether a Stormtrooper was holding back. They are still arguing over protocol for after they have identified a reluctant trooper. Phasma calls for reconditioning, Hux for execution.

When the alarm on his little tracker goes off Hux has to search for several minutes after he remembers what it is that’s giving off those horrendous wails and where he put the little device. It has been over a month since they have placed the tracker on Ben and released him into the wild, but this is the first time the alarm has gone off, which means that Phasma has won the bet they had running.

At first he considers calling Ben's guards to check his position, but then he detects that, according to the tracking information, the boy is very close by. With a resigned sigh Hux abandons his inspection of the new blasters and follows the signal instead.

After a short but confused search he ends up opening the locked door to a small storage room. Ben is standing inside, blinking in the sudden brightness.

“What in all seven bloody blazes,” Hux says.

“I got locked in,” Ben says and steps outside. “That noise is quite unnerving, isn't it?”

“Makes me jump every time I hear it,” Hux grumbles and switches off the alarm. “How did you get yourself locked in there?”

“The flight assistant droids for the TIE fighters,” Ben says as if that was anywhere near a satisfying explanation. “They kind of chased me in there and locked the door.”

Hux casts him his most disbelieving glance. “The flight assistant droids,” he repeats. “Funny. I never had anyone complain about the droids chasing them into storage rooms and locking doors before. Have they finally developed sentience and decided to rise up against humanity?”

Ben looks anything but comfortable in his skin. “It might have been my fault. I tried to access their performance skins. I kind of didn't expect the secondary security protocol.”

“Why would you want to change their performance skin?” He will have to talk to the pilots about leaving the doors to droid storage open.

“Well,” Ben says and now he looks really embarrassed, “you know how Phasma insists on performing a maintenance check on them herself after every mission instead of leaving that to the mechanics?”

“Of course I do.”

“And how it always takes several hours instead of one, because truth be told she doesn't know that much about the droids or flying a TIE?”

“Everybody knows,” Hux groans. “It drives the whole base insane.”

“So I thought I'd change their settings from flight mode to simulation mode,” Ben admits. “It looks the same if you don't know how to spot the difference, but all the responses turn funny and don't make sense anymore. Also, since it's designed for a much less complicated situation, half the commands aren't even processed by the droids. I thought maybe she'd finally get frustrated enough to give up and leave it to the mechanics from now on.”

Hux raises both eyebrows. Has the kitten developed tiny claws all of a sudden? “I can't decide if that is the lamest or the most ingenious prank I have ever heard of,” he says and leads Ben back to the droid storage unit. “Couldn't you at least set them to attack mode?”

“That would just be mean,” Ben protests. “Besides, I might have accidentally done that anyway. What are you doing?”

“Disabling the secondary security protocol,” Hux replies from the control panel at the wall that allows access to all droids at once. “I didn't even know it was possible to access the performance skin settings from here, though. I thought you had to use one of the proper data systems in the control room for that.”

An enthusiastic grin has taken over Ben's entire face. “You mean you’re letting me change the skin?”

Hux raises an eyebrow. “I am not letting you do anything. In fact, I'm not even here. You better remember that.”

The grin broadens as Ben turns to the control panel and inserts a set of commands with flying fingers. “It's the new system. They have installed it less than two years ago. It’s very intuitive, that’s probably why all the old people are having such huge problems with it. They are still used to the much more complicated former system.”

“Did you just call me old?”

“I’m just saying, it’s really not that hard. But if you’re scared that with the press of one wrong button you can make the whole thing explode…”

“Or get locked into a storage unit by a bunch of blood-thirsty droids…”

Ben giggles. Suddenly it is impossible to see the Queen in him anymore. Suddenly he has turned into a teenager. “Yes, well. The droids at home were easier to manage.” He turns around to look at Hux. “Done.”

“Get out of here, then,” Hux says and closes and locks the door behind them. “Why do you care about flight assistant droids anyway? Have you ever even sat in a fighter?”

“No. But I wanted to. When I was a child, I was determined to become a pilot. One time I tried to steal Poe Dameron’s X-Wing, but he caught me and ratted me out to my mum. ‘All with my own best interest at heart,’ he said. Sneaky bastard.”

“You have gotten yourself quite the fierce protector there,” Hux remarks as he takes Ben back to the base.

Ben pulls a grimace. “He means really, really well, but _kriff_ , if only he backed off a little. Sometimes I feel like I can’t even take a piss by myself because he is constantly cooing over me.”

Against his will Hux finds himself smirking. Maybe there is a reason why everyone on this base has grown fond of the boy.

“My dad used to promise me he’d take me out when I was older,” Ben continues. “But somehow that never happened. He got too caught up in his smuggling and was always kind of on the run.”

“Han Solo, right? After he became a war hero it suddenly turned strangely quiet around him,” Hux muses. “I always wondered why he didn’t take on a role as an ambassador or something like that. There must have been offers.”

“There were,” Ben says. “Countless offers, from lots of planets. He could never adapt to the official life, though. Eventually when the war was over, he turned back to smuggling.”

“A war hero indeed,” Hux sneers. “I wonder how many times your mother had to bail him out of somewhere after a cock-up.”

“Countless times. They fought about it whenever they weren’t busy fighting about me.”

“All parents fight about their children,” Hux says and leads Ben past the living quarters towards the training camp.

“Do they all say things like ‘well, we made him, so you better make your peace with that and start bearing your share because I am sick of doing it alone’?”

_I walked right into that, didn’t I?_

“Probably not,” Hux says. “Come now, there’s a flight simulator in the training area. I can’t let you fly a real TIE but the simulator is the next best thing.”

Ben looks up to him with hopeful sparkles in his big eyes. “I’m not allowed in the training area.”

“That’s why I am coming with.” He switches off the alarm on the tracker. Once per day is enough. “But don’t tell Phasma. She’ll find a reason to scold me for it.”

 

Phasma never finds out who changed the performance skin on the droids, but she doesn’t give up, either. One of the mechanics finally corrects the settings for her and Hux stands by and watches her work herself up in a rage over false voice commands and sudden shut-downs. He has never attempted checking the droids himself, mostly for fear of performing even worse than Phasma at the whole process.

“Abafar,” she says as they convene in the control room later. She has dragged Ben along to show him the squad exercises. “That won’t take long, I suppose. It will be a good opportunity to introduce the boys to a proper battle.” She nudges Ben who doesn’t take his eyes off the recruits down on the ground. “I’m a little worried about you, though. Will you be able to survive another week or so without my protection from the old meanie?”

“Watch it,” Hux says.

“I’m more concerned about you,” Ben replies without turning around. “You will have to work with Kylo Ren. That certainly doesn’t sound like a walk in the park.”

“Did General Hux whinge to you about her? He likes to act like she is the devil herself. Those two really can’t stay in a room together for more than two minutes without being at each other’s throats. I blame it on all that sexual tension…”

“There is no sexual tension,” Hux says.

“… but really, Kylo Ren is quite good at what she does.” She completely ignores Hux’s interjection. “Working with her usually means that things run smoothly. We come, see, and conquer.”

“I still wouldn’t want to change places with you,” Ben says. Then he turns to the supervisor next to him who is taking down notes about the recruits on his datapad. “Is it hard?”

“Is what hard?” the supervisor returns and lays the datapad on the table.

“The exercises. I was never allowed to participate in anything at home. It looks hard but it must be kinda nice to get out there every day.”

“Of course it’s hard,” he says. “Those guys have been training since they were little children. They are your age now. You wouldn’t last a day if you tried to join them now.”

“They look older,” Ben mutters.

“That’s because of the physical exercise. It does wonders to their development.” The supervisor reaches for his mug and the datapad slides off the table.

It never reaches the floor. Ben has stretched out his hand faster than anybody could react. He doesn’t touch it, but suddenly the datapad is hovering several inches above the floor. The three adults stare down on it in shock.

Ben slowly moves his hand and with a sudden quiver the pad drops the last few inches. He picks it up and places it back onto the table. Then he looks at Hux and Phasma with a rather curious expression.

“Since when have you been able to do that?” Phasma asks.

The red crystals, especially those around Ben’s wrists, have grown so dark that there is barely a spark left in them.

Ben shrugs. “It’s been happening a few times. I still have trouble controlling it. Usually when I try too hard, things like just now happen and the stuff drops back down.”

“Don’t ever show that to anybody else,” Phasma says.

Hux looks at the supervisor. “Not a word to another soul,” he warns him.

The man nods, pale as a ghost.

Later, when Ben is long back in his rooms, Hux and Phasma arrange the transferral of the supervisor to a special drill unit on one of the tertiary bases. Ben never learns about it, but a few days later the entire base gets wiped out when one of the storage facilities that houses explosives accidentally catches fire.

 

Han Solo chimes in with Skywalker in his demands to participate in the vid-conference with the First Order general.

“They already know who he is, anyway,” he argues. “And I can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind about their treatment of my son.”

“That is exactly the reason why you will be staying far away from the conference room,” General Organa tells him sternly.

Again it is Poe who sits in with her instead. This time the conference is even shorter than the one before. The larger part of the Senate is far from enthusiastic about making more concessions to the First Order. Those who urged the rest to agree to their demands are now on Poe’s list of senators they will have to keep an eye on. He knows there are still several factions that sympathize with the former Empire and now with the First Order.

Nevertheless the Senate retains a hard stance on their scope for negotiations. It doesn’t help that nobody knows Ben’s true identity and that Leia Organa herself is very much opposed to making too many concessions to the First Order.

“They are asking me to betray everything I believe in to save my son,” she once said to Poe. “And the worst thing is I am willing to do that. But if it works, I will never be able to shed that guilt ever again.”

The general is the same as before. He doesn’t show himself impressed with their progress in the Senate. He also doesn’t show any inclination to relax some of his demands. They still have time to change the opinion in the Senate, but slowly Poe is beginning to fear what might happen if the First Order general won’t be satisfied with their ultimate results.

Luke and Han, as it turns out after the very frustrating conference, are wondering the same thing.

“How about we stop waiting for them to give us what we want and become proactive?” Han suggests.

General Organa raises both eyebrows. “I’m not sure I even want to know,” she says.

“Infiltration. We sneak on board their Destroyer, disguise ourselves as Stormtroopers and free Ben before they even know what’s going on. We did it before, remember?”

“Yes,” Luke says. Suddenly the slump is gone and he looks more eager than ever before. “When we saved Leia. It worked back then, why shouldn’t it work now?”

“Because now they know who you are, Luke,” she replies in a tone that clearly indicates her desperation in having to deal with two man-children at once. “Do you really think they wouldn’t be alarmed to the presence of a Jedi on board? Kylo Ren has tried to kill you four times already. Now you want to play on her home-turf where she has all the advantages. You’re too famous to go on undercover missions anymore.”

“I will go then,” Poe says. “They will never recognize me in a Stormtrooper helmet. We can save my men and Ben and the First Order will be left with nothing.”

“See?” Han Solo turns to his ex-wife. “Easy enough.”

“There is nothing easy about this plan,” she returns. “I will not have you put your lives on the line and risk to accidentally reveal Ben’s identity to the entire First Order in the process. I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid me to do anything,” Han protests. “We’re not married anymore, remember?”

That earns him a chastising glance. “But I can appeal to your sanity. And I can forbid Poe to participate in such a breakneck scheme.”

“I don’t fear for my own life,” Poe presses. “I’d gladly risk it a thousand times over if it gave us a chance to save Ben and my men.”

“Even so, if they catch you, they will torture the truth out of you. I can’t risk that.”

“I have been living half my life around Jedi,” Han says. “Even Kylo Ren’s mind probing doesn’t scare me. I know how to keep the important information out of her reach.”

“This is not up for discussion,” General Organa flares up. “I will not have you fly such a stupid mission! Too many things rely on nothing but your own convictions that you are somehow invincible. I will not have my son be brought down by your hubris. I doubt that the general will actually risk losing Ben to Snoke. In the end he will concede, we just have to make sure that the offer we can wrangle from the Senate is high enough for him to bite.”

That should have been the end of their plan. It certainly is for Luke and Poe. They don’t see Han the next day. The day after that they receive notice from one of his contacts and General Organa calls in an emergency meeting.

“Han has left for the Unknown Regions,” she says. Her face is pale but her eyes are blazing in suppressed rage. “He has gotten his hand on an old TIE and has persuaded one of his rogue friends with connections to the First Order to smuggle him into their Stardestroyer. He is out of our reach already.”

“He really did that?” Luke asks in disbelief. “He didn’t even offer to take me along, that bastard!”

“Nor me,” Poe says, no less offended.

“That is NOT the issue!” General Organa yells at them. “The issue is that that idiot has gotten himself in mortal danger after I explicitly told him not to do that and explained to him why it is the most moronic idea I have ever heard!”

They try to get a hold of Han Solo nevertheless. But even with the entire manpower of the Resistance they have to resign to the fact that he is already too far gone to be reached anymore.

“It took him weeks to even bother to come here,” Poe muses to his general a few days later, after they have given up the chase. “And now suddenly he takes off in a one-man stunt to save his son. I really can’t say I understand his train of thought.”

“It’s always the same with that man,” Leia Organa says in exasperation. “He is either all in or all out. But most of the time he can’t even decide himself which one it is so he usually keeps you guessing.”

She doesn’t say much more about that topic, but the next weeks she spends in desperate frenzy around all the influential senators, trying everything to coax a deal out of them that will make General Hux agree to let the little Queen go.


	6. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks to everyone who has been reading and leaving feedback. You guys make my day! 
> 
> Ben is getting more daring. Hux might deserve some pity for having to deal with him, but then again - he probably had it coming.

The captain in charge of the Finalizer calls upon Hux in the late afternoon.

“Two of the Queen’s bodyguards tried to escape,” he says.

Hux frowns. “I hope you didn’t let that happen.”

“We didn’t, Sir, but the guards had to kill them.”

“What about the rest? How many are left?”

“Five men, Sir. They are still in their cell.”

“Did you let them know that the two escapees didn’t make it? Make sure they know what happens to them if they try to run.”

“They watched both men get shot and die in front of their eyes, Sir. They know.”

“Good. What about the bodies?”

“They are still in cold storage, Sir. Shall we incinerate them?”

“No. Send them back to the Resistance. Remind them that we’re not playing around.”

“Aye, Sir. Consider it done.”

“Good. Kylo Ren and Phasma are almost done on Abafar. It seems like we will be getting those new TIEs soon.”

“That is a relief to hear, Sir.”

“Is there anything else I should now about?”

“Everything is quiet, Sir. We will inform you once the construction of the oscillator moves into the next phase.”

Hux disconnects the call and stands up to return to the training schedules on the couch. He didn’t expect the bodyguards to be stupid enough to believe they could make a run for it, but obviously he has overestimated the Resistance. They will serve well as a warning to General Organa not to test his patience too much.

The door next to his data system opens and Ben steps into his room.

“You’re not supposed to come in here,” Hux says.

“The door is unlocked,” Ben replies.

“The door is unlocked so that I can check on you if necessary. It is not for you to just come through whenever you feel like it.”

“Ever heard of a slide bolt?” Ben drops himself into the chair in front of Hux’s data system and slowly spins around.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have watched those vids of the doctor you told me about.”

“All of them? That is quite a feat. There are several hundreds, even without counting all the missing episodes.”

“Not all of them. Just parts. It’s quite fantastical, is it not? I like the idea of going back in time.”

Resigned, Hux gives up on his schedules and leans back. “Why not go into the future? To the end of the universe and beyond.”

“That too.” Ben shrugs. “Sure. But most of all I want to go back to the time when my grandfather was still young.”

Hux watches him closely. “Why?” he asks, even though it’s not difficult to guess the answer.

“To see what caused his decision to go dark side,” Ben says simply. “Or if there even was such a decision.”

“Or if maybe it was just inside him?” Hux probes.

Ben shrugs again. “Yeah.”

Hux regards him carefully. Ben keeps his face admirably straight, but his eyes betray him. They are dark, as always when something worries him. He grows quiet when he is scared.

“Evil is not something you are born with,” Hux finally says.

Ben raises his eyebrows. “So what, you have to choose the dark side?”

“You make it sound like one big decision. A defining moment in your life when you suddenly realize, yep, I’m evil. It doesn’t work like that.”

“How does it work then?”

“The longer you live the more you will realize that there is no such thing as the one pivotal point. It’s hundreds of decisions you make and hundreds of decisions that are made for you. Hundreds of things that happen to you that you can’t do anything about. Even if you do get a life-altering epiphany at some point, your life won’t just turn 180 degrees overnight. You will have to work for that change. And sometimes it happens and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. But more importantly you don’t end up somewhere. You just reach stages and move on. The thing is, you’ll make enemies. People who call you evil because you refuse to see things their way. Naturally it gets more complicated the longer you live and the more decisions you make. But that’s it. That’s all there is to it.”

Ben watches him beneath half-closed lids. “You don’t see yourself as evil,” he states.

“Of course not. I’m not evil. You only think I am because your precious Resistance has indoctrinated into you for years that we are the enemy. If you boil it down to the gist, though, their means to reach their goals really aren’t that different from ours.”

Dark brown eyes continue to scrutinize him. “Phasma will return from Abafar soon. Has she killed the miners there?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“And the guards and the villagers.”

“Of course the guards. And the villagers who tried to fight back.”

“They’re not even supporting the Resistance. Or anyone else. They were just trying to survive and you killed them. Do you really think that is just?”

“It’s not about what is just. It’s about what is necessary.”

“Killing people is necessary?”

“It has always been. We weren’t the ones who invented war. The Old Republic, the Empire, the New Republic, they all use war to enforce a system they deem right. We are simply doing the same.”

“And the Starkiller? Is that, too, just doing what is necessary? Wiping out entire planets with every living soul on them, does necessity still justify such a course of action?”

There is barely anything Hux hates as much as defending the Starkiller. But he can hardly whinge about the idiocy of the whole project to the son of the Resistance general.

“Who told you about the Starkiller?” he asks instead. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”

Ben straightens his back. “Everyone talks about it. They let things slide. People are scared. The idea of wiping out an entire star system terrifies them.”

This is bad. Of course the men had to talk. Why keep their fucking mouths shut about the secret projects of the First Order when chatting with the enemy’s son with those big brown eyes and the trustworthy smile? “Well, maybe the Senate will show reason and there is no need to wipe them out.”

“You’re still keeping that option open, though.” Ben swivels around on his chair until he faces the data screen. He draws up a picture of the Hosnian system. “There are at least fifty senators who have paid me a visit while on Naboo. I have spoken to all of them, talked to them about their home planets. They will all die. Many soldiers of the Starfleet are friends with the Resistance. They train together and drink together. They will die as well. Several of the most progressive medical research facilities are stationed on Hosnian Prime. They are working on cures for diseases that still claim millions of victims all over the Galaxy each year. They are working on cutting edge technology for artificial limbs that not only work the same way real limbs do but actually enhance bodily functions. Some of the best universities are on Hosnian Prime. At least half of all top physicists, physicians, philosophers and engineers have graduated from the Hosnian Capital University. I wouldn’t be surprised if the chief engineer working on that weapon right now has received her education at that exact university. The banking system that controls the financial traffic all over the Galaxy has one of its main hubs on the planet. Trillions of credits that get exchanged every day flow through the Hosnian Prime network. The most prestigious research facility in time calibration engines for Starships is on Hosnian Prime. Not only are their engines the best in the entire Galaxy, they might be close to a breakthrough in time travel, at least for short lapses. One year or two, back and forth. They will all die. People all over the Galaxy have friends and family on Hosnian Prime. Celebrities, actors, musicians, artists. All of them will die.”

Ben looks up and directly into Hux’s eyes. “Because teaching the Senate a lesson is a necessity to you.”

There is nothing Hux can say that isn’t a lie. He has long made his peace with the fact that people will die in their war, not all of them soldiers facing them on the frontline. What he doesn’t like is the idea of mindless destruction. Ben is right with one thing. Hosnian Prime is a humming centre of innovation and progress. Killing the Senate, the Starfleet, even most of the populace won’t make much of a difference. Destroying every facility and the Capital University will set humanity back several decades. And who will be ready to follow an Order that has no regard for anything, nothing to believe in except destruction?

There is a difference between refusing to play by the Republic’s rules and throwing the entire game into the fire.

But he has barely begun voicing those thoughts to Phasma, his most loyal and influential subordinate. Under no circumstances can he tell his little hostage that he – partially, at least – agrees with him.

“Two of your bodyguards tried to escape on the Finalizer,” he says instead.

Ben’s eyes grow wide. “I take it they didn’t get out.”

“They’re dead.”

The boy slumps back in the chair as though he was hit in the chest by an invisible force. Hux watches grief and anger battle over his face.

“You killed them.”

“Yes.”

“Did you… did they…” He cards his hands through his hair again and again. “What did you do with them?”

“We sent them back to the Resistance. Their deaths are their own fault. When the guards see someone running, they tend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

Anger wins. Ben stands up. “Is that supposed to be a threat? No, don’t answer that. I have given you no reason whatsoever that justifies such a threat against me. Besides, you won’t kill me, even if I try to run. You know that all too well. So you keep my men locked away. My own personal whipping boys. You disgust me. I talk about the Starkiller and I can _sense_ your reluctance. You don’t like it, I don’t need anybody to tell me that. But what you say instead is how two of the men who have been going through hell for the last few months have died now because of me. Because you don’t trust me enough to let them go. That’s all you can ever talk about. Keep me in check so you don’t lose your precious bargaining chip. Fuck you, Hux!”

He runs back into his own room and slams the door shut.

“Watch your language,” Hux calls behind him. Then he sighs. Never again abduct a teenage queen. His next hostage will either be a toddler or a grandparent, but nothing in between.

He walks to the door. It doesn’t have slide bolts. The door is either locked or it’s open. Hux locks it.

He sits down at the data screen. He closes the image of Hosnian Prime and accesses the classified files of the Starkiller blueprints. Not everybody thinks like him and Phasma. Many of the hardliners take pleasure in the idea of simply getting rid of everything that opposes them. Most of the captains who have stayed behind on the Finalizer don’t mind pushing humanity back into the last century at all. They see it as an advantage. Make sure nobody can resist anymore, take what you want, and build the world anew.

Sounds easy enough.

Hux connects his personal datapad and copies every single file on the Starkiller, even the ones that are never to leave the main system. He doesn’t want to burn the game. He wants to make them play by his rules.

He will have to talk to Phasma.

 

“What have you done, Sir?”

“How is Abafar?” Hux ignores her question. They have settled themselves in his room, away from prying eyes and ears, after Phasma has inspected the recruits that stayed behind and reassigned the troops that have returned with her.

Phasma waves her hand dismissively. “Ours. Not much resistance on those sparsely populated Outer Rim planets. Kylo Ren is staying behind to explore the surrounding system. What have you done? He doesn’t talk to either of us anymore. I offered him to watch the troop inspection and he declined and walked away. He’s sitting in that cold courtyard now, moping away.”

“Training went fine, thanks for asking,” Hux says.

“I know how the training went. I read the reports. I am asking about the little Queen. If it was just you he had beef with I’d assume you made him cry again and that’s that. But he is angry at me, too, and I wasn’t even here. How did you manage to drag both of us down in my absence?”

“He knows about the Starkiller.”

“I know,” Phasma says. She looks even less pleased than Hux. “The men talk. I tried to curb it, but it’s not just one or two of them. They all talk. They argue about it. The boy is clever, he picks it up.”

“He’s not supposed to know anything. The minute he returns to Naboo he will tell everyone about it. The Resistance general, the Senate, every single person in the Republic. That is not how this was supposed to go.”

“Yes, you will have to kiss that seat in the Senate goodbye, then,” Phasma muses. “Except of course if you used the boy as leverage to ensure that nobody in the Senate dare touch you.”

“That would mean keeping him hostage. Which in turn would mean finding a way to ensure Snoke doesn’t find out about him. I’d have to allow Luke Skywalker on board to charge those damn crystals. There is no way I can do that and walk away with all my limbs attached.”

“Indeed, Sir,” Phasma says. “Or you take the seat and it doesn’t matter if the Supreme Leader finds out because he won’t get the boy anyway.”

They don’t look at each other. For a minute neither of them speaks. Eventually Hux sighs and decides to change the topic, very much the way he did with Ben.

“Two of his bodyguards are dead,” he says.

“I know. I read the reports.”

“He doesn’t like it.”

“He will live. I have been long thinking, we should kill the rest, too. Even if they don’t know about the Queen’s heritage, we can’t risk them revealing anything to Kylo Ren.”

Hux stands up and Phasma follows him. He walks her to the door.

“I will think about it,” he says.

 

Three days later Ben is standing in his door again. Hux isn’t sure whether he unlocked it or whether the boy figured out how to access the control panel, but now it’s open and Ben is looking at him with stern eyes. He has grown quite a few inches in these last weeks. His formerly so angular face has filled out a bit and his shoulders seem broader. His hair has grown, too, and keeps falling over his eyes. He most certainly doesn’t look like a porcelain doll who will break upon touch anymore.

“You’ll be talking to my mother again tomorrow,” he says.

“Yes.”

“I want to sit in.”

Hux raises both eyebrows. “How about no.”

“They must have received the bodies by now. You might think it will frighten them into concessions, but there is a reason they call themselves Resistance, not Submission. Right now they’re probably hatching plans to liberate me by force. Do you want to risk that?”

“We can handle a few X-Wings,” Hux says.

“You want them to concede to your demands, whatever they are. Give them something in return. Show them I am well. Let my mother see my face. She hasn’t seen me in months and if I were in her position, I wouldn’t necessarily trust your word.”

“It’s not uncommon,” Phasma says later. “To have a hostage show their face, say a few words… results suggest that it has quite a positive effect on the willingness of the negotiation party to concede.”

And that is how Ben ends up in the conference room next to Hux as they wait for the communicator to connect. Phasma is standing behind Ben, to make sure he doesn’t say anything he is not supposed to say and to take him outside if need be.

General Organa looks anything but pleased when her face appears on screen. Obviously she has received their presents. Her expression changes the moment she sees her son. Her eyes widen and for a few seconds she loses control over her perfectly set features.

“Ben,” she finally whispers.

He almost jumps out of his chair. Phasma’s hand on his shoulder holds him back.

“General Organa,” he says with a squeak in his voice. And then he shuts up. Phasma gives him an encouraging nudge. “I am well. I am so sorry about this, I…”

She tries to contain her expression and fails. Behind her, as always, stands Poe Dameron, staring at Ben as though he is witnessing an apparition.

Finally she says, “I am glad to see you. Are the crystals still holding up?”

“More or less.” He lifts an arm. “Another few weeks I think.”

“Now you know he is still breathing and talking,” Hux weighs in. “What about your progress with the Senate?”

General Organa shakes her head. “We can give you a seat and the shares you requested. The Banking Clan has voiced their approval as well. But opening up the southern transport routes is nearly impossible. And the Senate is adamant about not relaxing the armistice regulations for you. I doubt there is anything I can do in that matter.”

“A pity,” Hux says. “And here I was thinking you want the Queen safely back on Naboo.”

“General, you are asking the impossible of me.”

“And if there is one person in the Senate who has proven she can achieve the impossible it is you. I will give you another eight weeks. I fully trust in your commitment to this mission, General Organa.”

He disconnects before he has to witness a sentimental farewell scene between mother and son.

Ben jumps out of his chair. “That was bloody unfair!”

“Language,” Phasma says.

“You know she is doing her best! You know there is barely more she can do! You’re just doing this to torture her! There is no reason you couldn’t agree to that and end this farce!”

“I am beginning to think it was a mistake to let you sit in,” Hux remarks. He stands up and opens the door. “I gave you what you wanted. You have seen the general. Now let’s wait and see whether anything good comes out of that.”

“Oh, fuck you, both of you!” Ben storms out of the door without casting either of them another glance.

Phasma looks at Hux. “He gets that from you, you know,” she says. “The swearing I mean.”

 

When they receive notice that Kylo Ren is making her way back to the Finalizer, Hux makes a decision. It is dangerous enough with the budding young Force-sensitive on the base, they don’t need another threat on the Finalizer. He instructs his captain to kill the rest of Ben’s bodyguards.

“Incinerate them this time,” he orders. “Keep it quiet.”

He and Phasma decide not to tell Ben for now. The boy has been on edge ever since the conference with his mother. He spends a lot of his time in the kitchen and around the troopers, whenever they are in an area he is allowed to enter.

Until one day the alarm of the tracker calls Hux right out of a conference with his captains on the Finalizer. He sends his men to investigate. Later they report that they found him around the training area, just close enough to trigger the alarm.

“What was that about?” Hux asks Ben in the evening.

He shrugs. He does that a lot lately. “I misjudged. Just wanted to watch the guys a bit.” The monosyllabic answers as well.

It doesn’t stop at that. Over the next few days Hux gets called out of several conferences, training sessions, and lunches to find Ben skulking somewhere near a restricted area. Sometimes it’s the training grounds. Other times it’s the hangar.

“You know very well where your walking grounds end,” he accuses Ben after a week of interruptions. The constant wail of the little tracking device is grating on his nerves. Sometimes he still has the ringing in his ears when he goes to bed at night. “You never had trouble before. Are you still angry about the conference? Is that it? Are you trying to punish me for holding perfectly normal negotiations?”

Ben scowls at him. “Normal negotiations. You’re just being a fucking asshole for the sake of being an asshole.”

“Don’t you give me that attitude!”

“Why? Because otherwise you will lock me away? Now wouldn’t that be a change from the usual treatment!”

“I can’t,” Hux complains to Phasma later. “You talk to him next time. There is nothing I can say to make him see reason.”

“You are the one he is rebelling against, Sir,” Phasma points out. “This is something you will have to figure out on your own.”

“Remember in the beginning, when he was meek and obedient? What happened to that child?”

Phasma just gives him a smile.

Two days later a sergeant calls Hux to the weapons storage. “You better take a look at this, Sir.”

Hux takes a look.

He stares at the storage room in dismay. The entire opposite wall is covered in a thick, hard orange foam. About two hundred blasters drenched in the stuff. It will be almost impossible to clean off. Hux wants to cry.

“What happened?” he asks in a raspy voice. “What is this stuff? Where does it come from?”

“It’s fire extinguishing foam, Sir,” the sergeant answers. “We store it in the room at the front. We have no idea how it got into the weapons storage unit.”

“I do,” Hux growls. “Ben.” He activates his com-link and bellows for the guards. “Find me the little brat and bring him here, stat!”

Twenty minutes later a dishevelled looking Ben is standing in front of him, glaring up through the mop of hair that keeps falling into his eyes.

“You did that.”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove it, this is not a trial. How did you get in there? The weapons storage is off limits!”

“None of your business.”

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter. Those are two hundred blasters in perfect condition. Or at least they were in perfect condition before you got your dirty little hands on them. You will clean them up.”

“Why me? Now you’re just being petty!”

“Because it was you who ruined them in the first place. You will clean them with your own hands and I better find them spotless when I inspect them at the end of the week.”

Ben continues glaring and growling at him and for the next few days he refuses to speak to Hux whenever they see each other, but at the end of the week the blasters are clean.

The next day Hux’s alarm goes off, once again, right as he sits down at a conference. He has his men investigate. They comm him in panic only a few minutes later.

“He is gone, Sir!”

“What do you mean he is gone?”

“He was on the outdoor court on the twenty-ninth floor and it seems he took one of the cargo transporters. He is travelling towards the mines in the west!”

Hux jumps up from his seat at the table and bolts to the door. “That’s impossible! How could he have taken hold of one of the transporters? They are handled by droids, you cannot conspire with droids!”

Nobody can answer him that but as he arrives at the court and checks the tracking data, Ben has unmistakeably left in one of the little freighters. They inform the miners and have him apprehended upon arrival. One of the foremen takes him back in a shuttle.

“Are you just trying to fuck with me?” Hux bellows at him as Ben arrives safely back at the hangar. “What in all bloody blazes was that about?”

Ben just stares at him stubbornly.

“You’re grounded. Go to your room.”

That, at least, evokes an indignant response. “You can’t ground me! You’re not my father!”

“Do I have to order one of the guards to drag you back?”

Ben stays grounded for the day. Two days later the same thing happens again. Again he is easily apprehended the moment he lands at the mine (apparently he hasn’t learned how to disable the autopilot yet) and taken back to the base. The shrill whining of the alarm begins to seriously strain Hux’s nerves. He yells at Ben. Ben yells back. Hux grounds him for a week.

One week later it happens again.

“That’s it,” Hux says. “He is confined to his room again. I tried, but he is just too uncontrollable. Obviously we can’t have him running around the base without him causing some mischief.”

“You can’t lock him away,” Phasma protests. “He is not doing anything damaging. He has been thriving so well since he has been allowed outside his room. Don’t confine him back in there.”

“Not a week passes by without the fucking alarm forcing me out of a conference or a training session! Sometimes I dream about it. I wake up, certain that I have heard a siren somewhere and that Ben is up to something again. First and foremost he is still the Queen and a hostage. It is time he is reminded to behave accordingly.”

“First and foremost he is a boy and sixteen years old,” Phasma admonishes him. “He was pushed into the role of the Queen and forcefully taken hostage. But he is still a teenage boy and right now he is testing his boundaries. This is healthy behaviour.”

“Well, his boundaries have just gotten a lot narrower.”

“You can’t do that. For the first time in his life he is free from any responsibility and can be himself instead of having to play a role. Is it so hard to imagine he wants to test out this freedom a bit? It’s a natural human instinct after all.”

“I don’t care. I can’t run after him all the time. The longer this goes on the bolder his behaviour becomes. He will stay in his room from now on, period.”

“He will only become more resentful towards you if you ground him now without showing any understanding. Have you ever tried acknowledging his need for freedom instead? He needs encouragement not punishment.”

“I don’t fucking care! I’m not his father!”

“No,” Phasma says bitterly. “If you were his father you wouldn’t even be here. Whether you like it or not, Sir, right now you are the closest thing he has to a role model, so you’d do well to assume some responsibility yourself and not behave like a jerk all the damn time.”

Hux stares at her in disbelief. “Did you just call me a jerk?”

“I believe I did, Sir.”

“Are you so desperate to be demoted to the lowest, most insignificant position and be stationed on some lifeless tertiary base for the rest of your career?”

“I’d be thinking long and hard before you make your idle threats towards me, Sir.”

“What makes you think they are idle?”

“The fact that in less than four weeks you will have to choose between surrendering the boy to the Supreme Commander and openly defying his will. You will have to finally face the fact that the only way for you to go is a secession from the Supreme Commander to establish your own empire. If you want the larger part of the troops to remain loyal to you and the captains to follow you into the secession, you will need me by your side.”

Eventually they change the flying routes for the freighters to pass by the other side of the base and Ben’s trips around the planet stop.

Three days later when Hux and Phasma enter the cafeteria in the morning there is no food on the tables, but a lot of confused officers standing around. Upon enquiring in the kitchen they find exactly two men from the staff.

“We are on strike,” one of them explains. “We demand better payment and working conditions.”

“You can’t strike,” Hux barks at him. “You don’t have the right to go on strike.”

“We have set up a union. They mediate our official demands.”

“How about I have you all executed?”

“You can do that, Sir, but then you don’t have any kitchen staff left. Good luck finding qualified replacements that quickly. Honestly, Sir, the conditions around here are abysmal. We need to feed ourselves somehow, too. Many of us have family. We need better working hours and some real vacation time.”

“Who has put you up to that? It was Ben, wasn’t it? That little piece of shit thinks he can play on my ground…”

“We’re not saying it was Ben,” one of the representatives of the new union says.

“But we are also not saying that it wasn’t,” the second one adds.

They have the young cadets cook. None of them eats much that day. The strike drags on over the following days. After many heated arguments between Hux and Ben (“You are just doing this to rile me up!” – “How about you stop making everything about yourself and think about those who are dependent on you for a minute? These men need better treatment!”) and a combination of violent threats and concessions towards the union the men return to their work three days later.

Phasma sits Ben down for a stern talk about inciting rebellion among the staff. She ends up at the shooting range for three hours where Hux eventually finds her still fuming.

“It’s impossible to talk to him,” she complains amidst a sea of destruction caused by herself. “He won’t even listen to reason! He just keeps complaining about nobody giving a shit about him, least of all you. How we wouldn’t even care if he wasn’t here anymore and people only ever pay attention to him when he is doing something bad!”

“He is a sixteen year old boy,” Hux reminds her a bit smugly. “What did you expect?”

“For him to sit down and to understand that this is something he cannot simply do without repercussions!”

It is that same day Hux finds out how Ben has hurdled the foam into the weapons storage and managed to get the droids to pick him up. When he enters the boy’s room in the evening, Ben is hovering above the couch. _Hovering_. His legs are crossed and his eyes are closed.

When Hux shuts the door with a bang, Ben startles and drops back onto the couch.

“So that is what you’ve been doing lately,” Hux says. “Playing with the Force. Is that how you got the foam onto the weapons?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ben replies. “I just wanted to bomb the hallway. But I miscalculated and the door to the weapons storage opened and suddenly everything went wild. But look at what I can do now!”

He lifts his hand and points it at his teapot. It rises from its place and glides shakily through the air.

“Very nice. Put that down,” Hux says.

Ben shrugs and moves his wrist. The teapot drops out of the air and shatters on the floor. “Oops.”

“Ben, you can’t use the Force around here. What if somebody notices? What if the Supreme Commander finds out?”

“But it’s awesome,” Ben insists. “Why did they take it away from me in the first place?”

“I really can’t answer that.”

“Imagine how good I could be if I’d been able to train from the beginning. Imagine what I could do now. Sometimes I can enter people’s minds, did you know that?”

“How about you don’t. And I really hope you didn’t use mind-tricks to convince the kitchen staff to go on strike.” Hux sighs and sits down opposite Ben. “I know it’s new and exciting, but it’s dangerous. If anyone finds out about your powers they could use that against you.”

“You mean the way you do?” The bitterness in his tone doesn’t escape Hux.

“Do you think that is all I care about?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Ben, what do you want me to say? You’re a sweet child, but you’re still a hostage. I have work to do, I can’t take time off just for you…”

“Yeah,” Ben says and this time Hux can taste the bitterness in the air. “Nobody ever can. My mum and dad never thought it necessary so why should you?”

Hux regards him carefully. He hasn’t just developed proverbial teeth and claws recently. He is getting powerful. His powers won’t be controlled forever. The kyber crystals are still strong enough to keep him shielded from Snoke’s attention, but not for much longer. Sooner rather than later, Hux will have to make a choice.

“I don’t want to see you in the hands of the Supreme Commander, kitten,” he says softly. “So how about we strike a deal? You stop using the Force and you stop your little pranks and Phasma and I will take turns having you attend the training sessions. You can participate in the physical training if you want and we will teach you about commanding a squad. Dealing with the old geezers in the Senate won’t be that much different from controlling troopers.”

Ben lifts his head. His eyes sparkle. “You mean that?”

“I mean that.”

 

The next day Hux receives a call from the Finalizer.

“Several new problems with the Starkiller have appeared,” the captain informs Hux. “And Kylo Ren has apprehended an intruder on the ship. She requests you temporarily return to the Finalizer so you can deal with these issues together.”


	7. Secession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for staying on board... things are happening!

While the construction of the oscillator on its new site is still running smoothly, the team of engineers in charge of the charging unit has now determined that the material used to absorb the raw energy is not stable enough to hold the power necessary to create the phantom beam.

“There is a research lab on Coruscant that is currently developing a new material. It is said to withstand temperatures of up to seven million degrees Celsius,” the chief engineer explains to Hux. “That should be enough to absorb the matter once it has cooled down a bit from core temperature. If we got our hands on those research notes we could fashion something sufficiently durable. But the permasteel you are planning to use now will melt halfway through the charging progress. We severely underestimated the temperatures the sun matter still has when it hits upon the planet surface.”

“Well, I cannot simply ask them to hand those notes over to me, even with a little Queen as my bargaining chip” Hux says. “People will ask questions. But some of the staff still have ties to scientists on Coruscant, don’t they? Let’s try to get in via backdoor.”

“Very well, Sir.”

“How long will it take to develop the material ourselves?”

“It’s hard to say, Sir. A few years, I’d assume. We need quite a lot and resources are scarce. It might be helpful if we had control over some more mining planets, maybe those in the east.”

“I will speak to the Supreme Commander.”

He has a whole list now of things he will have to speak to the Supreme Commander about. The Starkiller, the training progress, the negotiations with the Senate. And of course the invader. When Hux returns from the Starkiller to the Finalizer, Kylo Ren is waiting for him.

“The intruder we have apprehended,” she says. “Let me show him to you.”

She seems almost excited. It is hard to tell, because her face is as unmoving as usual, but her eyes have a wicked sparkle in them and rarely has Hux seen her so eager to show him something.

She leads him down to the holding cells. The prisoner is kept in one of the rooms designed for information retrieval. Since Kylo Ren is not always available to do the job, and some prisoners show a surprising resilience against her mind-probing techniques, those rooms feature regular torture equipment as well. More than once it has proved useful to submit a prisoner to physical pain to weaken their mind before Kylo Ren was able to extract any valuable information from them.

The moment Hux lays eyes on the man chained in the chair he knows who it is and he knows, several decisions have just been made for him.

The man looks mangled. His greying hair shows streaks of dried blood and clings to his forehead drenched in sweat. His eyes have sunken deep into his skull. His skin is pale and his breath comes in ragged gasps.

Hux looks down onto him and tries to suppress the dangerous blend of anger and dread that is burning his insides right now.

“Han Solo,” he says. “What is a former war hero doing on board our ship?”

“He has been quite resilient so far,” Kylo Ren says with that slight hitch in her voice that tells Hux how much she enjoys this situation. “He is still trying to resist me, even after all that pain we have caused him. Now, what should I do with you, Han Solo? Should I just kill you and be done with it? Or should I torture you a bit more, see if I can find out something valuable after all? I am being torn apart here.”

“When did you catch him?”

“Three days ago. The sleep deprivation should be taking its toll by now. I think I will go with the torture. The Supreme Leader has been after this man’s son for over a decade. You have managed so well to hide him, I’d almost applaud you for that. But how about we find out where the little bugger is now?”

“Seems like the First Order is experiencing a stroke of luck for a change,” Hux says as he watches Kylo Ren access the prisoner’s mind by Force. “Who would have thought that anybody in connection with Leia Organa and her son would be stupid enough to simply jump onto our main ship and offer himself up so easily?”

“The First Order,” Kylo Ren sneers. “This was me, General. It was I who found the man out. I apprehended him. Your men noticed nothing and did nothing, as always. Maybe you should concentrate on your Starkiller project and leave the handling of the enemy to me.”

“Not everyone can have mind-reading abilities,” Hux returns sourly. He hates everything about this situation. How could the Resistance have been so stupid? Send Han Solo, of all people, to free the little Queen and then not even send him to the right place.

When Solo begins his screaming, Hux knows he is going to give it up. Everything. After a while they all do, even the most resilient ones.

“Holy stars.” Kylo Ren straightens her back and stares at Hux. “It’s the Queen.”

Hux raises his eyebrows. “What Queen?”

“Your Queen. The little boy you took hostage, from Naboo. He is Solo’s and Organa’s son. And not just that… he is Darth Vader’s grandson!”

“Now you’re just fucking with me. That tiny little child? The grandson of one of the most fearsome Sith the Galaxy has ever seen?”

“I can hardly believe it myself, but it’s all there.” She turns her back to Solo and strides out of the room, without paying any heed to his weak pleads to see his son one last time. Hux follows her. “So that is why he deemed it necessary to infiltrate this ship. He was trying to rescue his son. Where is the Queen now?”

“He is on the base with Phasma,” Hux replies. “I can have them back here in a few days’ time.”

“Hurry, then,” Kylo Ren instructs him. Even though she is smaller than Hux her strides are so fast that he has trouble keeping up. She always carries herself with a fierce determination, but today she feels more like the personification of the Force itself. Everything around her is humming with energy. “I will inform the Supreme Commander. He will want me to bring the boy to him immediately so I advise you not to screw this up, even if it’s the first time in your life you do something right. It is hard enough for me to believe that you managed to keep the boy under your nose for months now, without having the wits to discover his identity. But then, you rarely care about anything that is not your precious soldiers, so there’s that.”

And then she turns a corner and disappears before he can point out her failure to sense anything out of the ordinary in Ben when he was standing right in front of her. Hux doesn’t pause to consider whether his plan is doable at all. He immediately returns to the shuttle that brought him onto the Finalizer. He assembles the men he knows are trustworthy and takes the shuttle to the Destroyer he uses for his interplanetary travel.

On board the Destroyer he comms Phasma. It takes a while as she is right in the middle of a drill session.

“Having Ben participate in the training was your best idea yet, Sir,” she says when she finally appears. “He is so exhausted from the physical exercise that he can’t even talk back anymore.”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Hux says. “Kylo Ren has captured Han Solo. She knows. Get the boy out of there, hide him somewhere on the Outer Rim until I have arrived. Then gather your troops, everyone who will go along with this. I will speak to the Senate, make them grant us asylum on Hosnian Prime and recognize our secession. It shouldn’t be too hard to achieve support from certain factions in the Senate. It is time for us to leave the First Order.”

 

Poe has a very bad feeling about General Hux’s request for a sudden call. Their next conference has been set for two weeks from now. Any news before that cannot bode well.

The general doesn’t look well rested. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and the room he is in is not the usual conference room but apparently the bridge of a Destroyer.

“How the _fuck_ can you be so stupid!” he bellows before General Organa has even managed to speak a greeting.

She frowns. “You seem quite upset, General, but is that really a reason to resort to petty insults?”

“You let his bloody father run a star-forsaken rescue mission all on his own as if he wouldn’t be found out the minute he set foot on the Finalizer and to top it all off you send him to the wrong place! I think I have all the reason in the Galaxy to use as many insults as I like.”

General Organa turns her face towards Poe. She has grown pale. He stares back. A dreadful suspicion creeps into his bones.

“We didn’t send Han Solo,” Poe says. “He left on his own. I take it you have apprehended him?”

“Not me. I wasn’t even on the damn ship. I was busy keeping your bloody son safe, far out of reach from Kylo Ren. It was her and of course she has tortured him and of course she knows. The Supreme Commander knows as well. Congratulations. You have successfully managed to shoot yourselves in the foot, multiple times.”

“It wasn’t us,” Poe barks back. “It’s not our fault this wayward man…” but General Organa lifts her hand and shuts him up.

She turns back towards the screen. “That is unfortunate, general,” she says with the calmness of a resting dragon. “We have made quite some progress in the Senate concerning your demands. You understand all of that will be void if you allow the Queen to fall into the hands of your Supreme Commander.”

She has been thinking about it for weeks now, Poe knows that. She has always known that is might come to this, especially since Han Solo took off on his own to start his ill-conceived rescue mission. She is not ready to give up on her son yet.

The general doesn’t look impressed. “I understand that,” he says. “Which is why you will grant us asylum. My officers and I will come to Hosnian Prime. It’s the last place Snoke will be able to touch us, at least for the time being. You will grant us the seat in the Senate and the necessary financial means. In return I will keep your son safe.”

“What do you mean with safe, General? The only place he is safe now is with us. The deal was for us to meet your demands. In return you would release my son. I must hold you to that promise now.”

“The deal has been changed. You changed it when you forced us into action. None of your concessions will go to the Supreme Commander anymore. They will now go to me. But don’t think I will be so naïve to assume my position on Hosnian Prime secure. I will not allow you to give in to my demands first and then do your utmost to oust me the moment you get your precious son back. He will stay with us. Snoke won’t touch him. But as long as my own position isn’t secure, I will keep the boy as collateral.”

“No!” Before he can stop himself Poe jumps up and stomps in front of the screen. “It’s enough, General. You played your games. We will grant you your wish. Give the Queen back to us.”

General Hux raises a lazy eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything and sure enough, General Organa takes Poe’s arm and pulls him not-so-gently back into his seat.

“You intend to bring Ben with you to Hosnian Prime,” she addresses Hux.

“I do.”

“Then we will agree to your suggestions for now. I shall speak to the Senate to grant you entry onto the planet. You will have to officially declare your secession from the First Order, but as soon as you have done that we can discuss any further action in person. I look forward to your arrival, General Hux.”

Once the conference is over she turns to Poe.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I spoke out of line.”

“Not important,” she replies. “I have to convene the Senate. Let’s play by his rules for now. We cannot risk Ben falling in Snoke’s hands. But as soon as I know he is safely on Hosnian Prime, I will need you to get Han out. He may be the biggest buffoon in the Galaxy and he may have just cost us the chance of getting Ben back anytime soon, but he is still his father. I cannot let him rot there.”

“Will we make any attempt to free Ben from the general?” Poe asks.

She lowers her head and rubs her forehead. “Of course. I would do anything to get him back. At least Hosnian Prime should grant us more opportunities to do so. Let’s assess the situation first, though. As soon as we know where Ben will be held and where the general’s weaknesses lie, we can make proper plans.” She looks up and despite the shock that is still edged in her face, the gleam in her eyes is as determined as ever. “We will get Ben back, Poe. And the next time Luke meets Kylo Ren, I will ask him to kill her. He tried to turn her towards the light four times now. The times for mercy have passed.”

 

“What about my father?” Ben asks. He is standing on the bridge next to Hux. The Destroyer picked him up yesterday from a covert little moon in the Outer Rim. When he learned about the recent developments he asked to be alone for a while to process them. He has spent most of the time withdrawn in his bunk.

Now they have changed rides to a smaller, more agile starship that has a standing clearance to land on Hosnian Prime. It is not the one Hux will arrive in. This one is purely for Ben and doesn’t bear any signs of a connection to the First Order, but as long as they haven’t approached the Core Worlds yet, they are flying together.

“You father is still in the hands of Kylo Ren,” Hux answers.

“Couldn’t you have freed him?”

“No.”

Ben turns to him, frowning. “Why not? Because you would have had to sincerely care about another human being and risk your hide for someone simply for the sake of being a good person?”

“That’s basically it, yes.”

“You’re a monster.”

“But I am still alive and out of reach from the Supreme Commander and so are you. Let’s be grateful for that, shall we?”

“What about my bodyguards? They’re still on the Finalizer as well, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Same situation.” He hasn’t told Ben that his bodyguards are dead, yet, and he is most certainly not going to start now that the boy is in a bad mood anyway.

“You have to free them.” Big brown eyes stare at him with all the fierceness they can muster.

“Not a chance.” He knows this conversation will keep them busy for a while. Unless he changes topic fast. “Your father got himself into that mess, he will have to face the consequences. Much more importantly, what about the Supreme… Snoke? Are you hearing voices yet?”

“No,” Ben replies, still frowning, lips drawn downwards into a pout. “But my father…”

“Let’s hope it stays like that,” Hux interrupts him. “Can you take the crystals off? They don’t serve any purpose right now, anyway.”

Ben scowls at him, but he lifts his arm and touches one of the kyber crystals. A tiny light flares up, then the last gleam in the crystals dies out completely. They become dull red stones and drop into Ben’s hand. He does the same with his other wrist and his neck. Then he bends down and removes the ones from his ankles. Finally he straightens back up and shows Hux the heap of tiny crystals in his hands.

“I can do that now,” he says. “I needed somebody to take them off for me until recently.”

Hux takes the crystals from Ben and pockets them. “I will hold on to them for now,” he says. “We will go separate ways when we reach Hosnian Prime.”

A hopeful glimmer appears in the boy’s eyes. “You’re releasing me to my mother?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not. We are taking you away from the city. We found a nice place at the countryside, secluded, ideal to keep secure, and very inconspicuous.”

Ben stares at him in dismay. “But you promised me you’d get me back to my mother! When is that going to happen?”

Hux smirks a bit. “All in good time. For now you are still my collateral for keeping the Senate nice and compliant. I can’t risk having your mother as my opponent from the very beginning, after all.”

“You fucking arsehole!” Ben yells at him. He is clenching his fists at his side. One of the data systems next to him begins to wail. Its screen cracks loudly. “You said you’d let me go! You’re getting everything you ever wanted and now you’re not even holding your own promise!”

“How is having to renounce my own Order and fleeing to the enemy’s side for safety ‘getting everything I want’?” Hux asks coldly. “We have decided on this move because of you. Right now Phasma is battling her own troops on the second base because she is fighting to keep you safe. I have betrayed my own leader because it was the only way to make sure he would never be able to lay hands on you.”

“Don’t you try making me feel guilty about this!” Ben cries. “None of this is my fault. If you hadn’t taken me hostage in the first place you wouldn’t even be in this situation! You are doing this because you have been waiting for an excuse to betray your Order for years now. Ever since they made you supervisor of the Starkiller project! So don’t you act like any of this is on me!”

This is nothing his flight personnel should have to witness. The boy has grown way too perceptive since he has developed his connection to the Force. Hux looks at one of the men who will take Ben to Hosnian Prime in his stead and motions him with his hand. “Take him downstairs,” he says to the man. “Wait until he has cooled down a bit. Then cut his hair to an acceptable length and get him into the new clothes.”

For the entire duration of Ben’s stay on the Finalizer and the first base he has not gotten his hair cut once. He has always refused, but now Hux doesn’t give him a choice anymore. They have to make sure the boy is less recognizable and young men with short black hair are still much more common than men with long curls.

Ben is screaming and cursing the whole way down into the lower decks. Two of the guards drag him there but it will take some time until he has calmed down. Of course he doesn’t like this development. And of course he is acting as though he has any say in what happens to him on Hosnian Prime. They should never have allowed him so much freedom on the base.

Hux turns towards the reports Phasma has sent him since she started rallying the troops. The moment they brought Ben out of the Supreme Leader’s reach, Kylo Ren took notice of their plans. She immediately ordered the Stormtroopers to attack and kill all insurgents. Not everyone on the bases stayed loyal to Hux and Phasma. He has left it to her to fight back the remaining First Order troops and join them as soon as she can pull her fleet out of the Borderlands. They will have to stay in Republic territory in the Outer Rim for a while. It goes against the Concordance, Hux knows that. But he also knows that right now the Republic will turn a blind eye on the fleet, just like they are doing with the Resistance.

Since Kylo Ren herself has entered the battle a few hours ago, Hux has urged Phasma several times to retreat as soon as possible. They might be able to overpower the small part of the Stormtrooper legion that has decided to turn against them, but Kylo Ren and her squad are a whole different matter. They might win in the end but the losses would be considerable.

He hasn’t received many news since, except for sporadic updates from his captains on the other bases. They are getting ready to depart, too.

_The Senate will have to recognize us. We are a considerable force and we already claim several planets in the Galaxy as ours_.

Quite some time after the screaming has stopped, Ben reappears, again dragged along by two of his future guards. They are twenty in total, Hux’s most trustworthy men. They all are dressed in Hosnian fashion, as is Ben. Long shirts with wide sleeves and narrow collars around the neck. The fabric is gathered in broad belts at the waist. Those belts tell a lot about a person’s standing and their affiliations, as well as the season and sometimes even the day if it’s a special holiday. They have chosen garments of rather modest means. Kander Hoon, the oldest of the guards is wearing the symbol of the head of a household, two others pose as his sons. Ben is disguised as one of many servants. No one will ever talk to the servant boy.

He is still in a terrible mood and Hux could swear one of his guards is wearing a fresh cut on his cheek. But he is dressed and his dishevelled hair is cut to his ears and slicked out of his face. It makes his scowl much more visible, though.

“Very nice,” Hux says. “We will arrive on Hosnian Prime in two days. Until then you are free to go sulk in your room if that is what you prefer to do, kitten.”

And that’s exactly what Ben does.

 

“How do you like the Senate so far?” Senator Organa asks.

Hux takes a sip of his caf and glances at her over the rim of his cup. She returns the gaze calmly. It is the first time they meet in person. He expected her to be taller, but even with her small stature she manages to carry herself in a way that makes people automatically take notice of her.

His arrival on Hosnian Prime has been going smoothly enough until now. He has received a message from the captain of Ben’s guards that they have reached the mansion several thousand kilometres from the capital without disruption and that nobody seems to have followed them. Ben, albeit still in his worst mood, has settled in the moderate climate nicely.

“It is about as big and as slow as I have imagined,” he answers the question. “No wonder you never get any decisions made with all those long, pointless discussions to fill up the time.”

“The Senate has its uses,” Leia Organa muses. “But there are a lot of matters that are better left in the hands of the individual planets. Maybe more than we are allowing right now.”

Reception in the Senate has been mixed. There is the Naboo faction of course, led by Senator Organa herself, as well as the far left wing. Any one of them has made it clear that they would rather see Hux leave and not return. But there were others, too. Not just right-wing hardliners, those that hate the Resistance and would love to see Senator Organa dead. Several senators from more moderate factions seemed relieved to find a new movement away from the cumbersome politics of the Republic back to the sleeker, better organized government of the Empire. Hux hasn’t been surprised to see how many of the ambassadors seem undeterred by the idea of employing a larger fleet outside of the Concordance regulations, as long as they are not ruled by a Sith Lord and still have a say in Senate matters.

“You are always welcome to join my call for more centralization and the establishment of a higher chamber within the Senate where decisions can be made more swiftly and without endless objections from completely worthless planets,” Hux offers Senator Organa.

She give him an exhausted smile. “I will never join your call for anything, General. More importantly, you haven’t told me how my son is, yet.” Ever since Snoke has learned of Ben’s identity, she hasn’t been as strict with calling him the Queen, even in public. Their most fearsome foe knows; there is barely a way in which this situation could become worse. “You say he is on Hosnian Prime, but nobody has seen him yet. I feel little inclination to simply trust your word in this matter.”

“Ben is far away from the capital. It would be alarming if anybody had seen him so far,” Hux replies. “But I will talk to him. I shall have him give you a message so you can sleep in peace again.”

“I will not sleep in peace until my son is back with me, General. Releasing him is, however, not the only thing you can do for us. You know more about the First Order and the Supreme Commander than anybody else in the Republic. Why not share this knowledge with us? We are both eager to see him defeated, after all. And as far as I have heard, your feelings towards Kylo Ren, too, are anything but friendly.”

“And you simply expect me to hand this information over to you?”

She raises both eyebrows. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Name your price for information that will help us assess the First Order and the threat they pose to the Republic and I shall see what can be done.”

Hux turns his head and stares out across the balustrade for a few minutes. From the veranda he has a nice view of the city, the lanes of the lift-cars and the green of the parks between tall buildings glistening in the summer sun. They have chosen this café because it is right in the heart of the capital, not too far from the Senate. It is a spot as public as can get. There is no risk of one of them trying to jump the other. For once, not even the Resistance bodyguard who kept yelling and scowling throughout their comm-conferences is anywhere in sight. He is probably too much of a liability to drag along to a proper diplomatic meeting, Hux muses.

“I need an official permit for the fleet,” he finally says. “While we have moved them out of the Borderlands, we are still being attacked frequently by the First Order. The fleet is necessary to protect us and our interests. Get me a permit for them and I will give you whatever information you need.”

She casts him a long, thoughtful glance. “They are in Republic territory anyway, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

Far enough, at least, to have escaped the worst wrath of Kylo Ren and her Troopers. As expected the Republic is doing their best to ignore the existence of Hux’s fleet right now. But that is still a long way from official recognition, which is the first real step to establishing a proper second Empire.

“I will speak to a few people. You will have to submit them to certain guidelines, though. How is your captain faring by the way?”

“She is doing better, thank you. The medcenter tells me they will release her in about a week.” Just before she called for retreat Phasma got embroiled in a direct encounter with Kylo Ren. It left her severely injured, but then, most others in her place would be dead. She has spent the last weeks in a medcenter in Cloud City on Bespin, most of which she has spent complaining loudly about the refusal of her doctors to grant her an early release. “She is very eager to return to her work.”

“She is a brave woman to face Kylo Ren and still show such willingness to support your cause.”

“She has faced your son every day for several months. She is able to face Kylo Ren just fine.”

He watches a frown creep into Leia Organa’s face. A fear, too vague to be spoken aloud, but nevertheless present. He can almost read the thoughts that must have worried her ever since Hux got hold of her child.

“There is another matter about my son, General,” she says and Hux smirks. He has been waiting for her to breach this topic for quite a while now. “Since the Supreme Commander knows of Ben’s identity, he will most certainly take up his attempts to contact him anew. We cannot let that happen. The boy is still too young to be troubled with that kind of a burden. You need to give us a chance to renew his Force-bonds, for Ben’s sake. We will do this on your conditions, whatever they are, but please, General…”

Hux empties his caf and stands up. “I will consider your request, Senator Organa. You may expect my answer the next time we meet. Now if you excuse me, I have an Empire to build.”

He leaves the café behind and has his driver take him to the lodges that are provided for all senators. He doesn’t like the place. It is far outside the city and it is much too easy to control a person’s movements from there.

He will have to get a better place in the city, bigger and with easier access to the Senate, that will allow him to move freely without giving his opponents much opportunity to track him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update next week will be on Thursday since I'm away the whole weekend :)


	8. Force-Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux once again gets to prove his outstanding talent in pissing off the Organa-Solo family ;)

Hux arrives at the country house a day before Phasma does. The first thing he does upon arrival is establish a connection to the captain who is leading their fleet in Hux’s and Phasma’s absence. They have designated a whole room in the house for communication purposes alone. (Ben is not allowed there.) Even though he has changed residence Hux still doesn’t trust that his line won’t be intercepted. He will have to install an entirely new untraceable system before he can speak freely to his men from his loft in the capital. Until that time he will have to come to the countryside to hold proper conferences.

“The First Order have stopped attacking us, Sir,” the captain reports. “They seem to concentrate on the annexation of the mining planets in the far east. The Resistance has deployed several units to defend the planets and even the Starfleet has sent out Fighters, since most of the influential planets of the Republic obtain their rare metals from those mines. The battles have grown rather fierce, or so I have heard.”

“So they intend to continue the Starkiller project,” Hux muses. “They need the metals for the construction, after all. Well, it makes sense. They have lost a large chunk of their conventional troops, what choice do they have but put it all into one large weapon of mass destruction?”

“Is that good for us, Sir?” the captain asks. “Do we still want the Senate and Hosnian Prime to be eradicated?”

“Not necessarily,” Hux concedes. “I am in negotiations with Senator Organa right now. Sooner or later we will inform her of the project and then we will see how this might help armament regulations. Even the Republic can’t cry for appeasement and demilitarization while a weapon ten times as big as the Death Stars is being built in the Unknown Regions.”

“Has Captain Phasma arrived yet?”

“Tomorrow. After that she will be the one keeping contact with you. For now I am still waiting for that permit. Once your status has officially been recognized, I will send the two of you to Phindar. Colonists there have been requesting help against the natives for years now, but with the rules on equal standing of non-human sentient species, it is almost impossible to gain enough support for an intervention on the Outer Rim territories.”

“But we intervene anyway,” the captain says. “Because they are humans?”

“Yes.” Because, as Hux very well knows, there is nothing the Core World population loves more than to be reassured that humankind is still the predominant race in the Galaxy. If anybody tries to suppress them someone will smite them down. The Republic might not be willing to take action. Hux on the other hand has no issues reminding people that non-human species trying to overrun the Core Worlds and to push humankind out to the Rim is something he will never allow to happen.

After the conference with his captain Hux visits the sitting room. It is a huge space with an entire front opening up to the gardens. The gardens are surrounded by high fences. Outwardly they appear to be nothing but two and a half metres of brushes, but hidden inside is an entire wall of barbed wire and an electrical security system that raises alarm the moment somebody tries to sneak through from either side.

The fence is not the only security measure they have implemented to make sure Ben stays in one place. He has been fitted with a new tracking device for the house and wherever he goes there are always at least two men to keep him in their line of sight. At night the doors to his rooms remain locked.

He comes in from the garden as Hux steps onto the veranda. He has exchanged the official clothes of Hosnian Prime for a simple shirt and trousers, both of which are stained with soil. His hands and face as well look like he has dug himself through the entire garden for hours. His hair is growing again and he has gotten himself a hint of a tan. Compared to the first base Hosnian Prime is a tropical paradise. Hux is almost certain Ben has grown several inches again, too. Soon he will be taller than Hux. He doesn’t like that idea. Phasma is bad enough already, but even though Hux is not small suddenly he has to look up to even more people.

Ben grins as he sees Hux. He takes a towel and cleans off his fingers and face and now Hux can see that some of that dirt is actually the slightest fuzz of dark stubbles.

“You’ll have to start shaving soon,” Hux says and sits down into one of the chairs facing the garden.

Ben gives up on the towel and uses the hose instead. Hands, face, and parts of his clothes dripping wet he settles down cross-legged right on the veranda. It's not just his height, Hux notices. His shoulders have broadened, too, and he almost shows a hint of muscle on his slender frame.

“I could grow a beard,” he muses. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

“You’re sixteen. Whatever you’ll grow, it won’t resemble a beard yet.”

“Seventeen,” Ben returns. “You missed my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“I have decided to turn the lawn into a vegetable patch,” Ben says. “It’s a waste of space anyway and we could grow our own food.”

“Do what you want. As long as the lettuce doesn’t spell out “HELP ME” from the air.”

Ben’s grin broadens. “See, I didn’t even think of that. You’d make a much better hostage than me.”

“Well, you seem to have settled in quite nicely. No more temper tantrums?”

Ben shrugs. “It’s not too bad here I guess. Peaceful. I’ve been thinking about getting a cat but the guards forbid it.”

“Quite right so. I used to have a cat as a child. It was the most annoying little thing. One day I shot it with a toy blaster and got lucky.”

Ben stares at him wide-eyed. “What happened?”

“I killed it. Thank the stars that was the last time anybody tried to impose an animal onto me.”

Ben shakes his head in desperation. “That was a terrible story. Never tell that to anyone ever again.”

“I am busy enough with you anyway, kitten. No more pets.”

“I am not your pet,” Ben says. “Besides, you’re in the capital most of the time anyway. I can’t wait for Phasma to arrive.”

“Me too. Then I won’t have to take care of everything myself anymore.”

“How is the Senate, by the way? Is it as tiresome as you have always imagined?”

“Worse,” Hux says. “Nothing gets decided in the meetings. You want something done, you gather the necessary people for drinks or the theatre or anything else where you can talk without making it too official. It’s politics and I hate it so I ignore it mostly.”

“Have you told them of the Starkiller yet?”

“No.”

Ben frowns. “Why not? You really have no reason whatsoever to protect that thing anymore. Shouldn’t you want it out of the way as soon as possible?”

“The Starkiller won’t be ready for years to come. Plenty of time to use it for all the concessions I need.”

“I thought you had me for that.”

“Why shoot with just one cannon when you can use two?”

“Because once again you are risking people’s lives simply to get what you want. Do you ever stop to think about who you might be hurting by dragging this whole thing out for your personal gain?”

“Not really, no.”

Ben stands up and stares down onto him. “You’re still an arsehole, Hux.”

“Watch it,” Hux says. “The Starkiller won’t be fired. But how we get rid of it and what will be done to achieve that you will have to leave to me. Now to something much more important.”

He pulls the kyber crystals out of his bag and places them on the small table next to him. “Have you heard anything of Snoke yet?”

Ben stares at the crystals. He is still frowning. “I’m not sure. I have been kind of overloaded with new sensations lately. I’m still sorting through them, trying to figure out how this whole connection to the Force works.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that much longer anymore. I have decided to give in. We will allow a Jedi to come to a neutral place and charge your crystals there. Not Skywalker of course, but I suppose any Jedi will do, really. You are getting your Force-bonds back.” Hux keeps his eyes carefully trained on Ben’s face as he speaks.

The boy’s eyes flare up in sudden rage. “You want to chain me up again?”

“Nobody said anything about chaining you up.”

“Don’t play ignorant with me, Hux! You know what these things do! That’s your way of making sure I stay small and obedient? Easier to control somebody who’s constantly in pain and can’t even eat! Give me a fucking break!”

“Funny,” Hux says. He leans back and watches Ben’s face with amusement. He has half expected that exact reaction. “I should think you’d be grateful. Your own mother has begged me to put you back on the Force-bonds, after all, and so did you in the beginning, remember?”

“That was then. This is now. You’re not doing this for my mother, or for me, you’re doing this for yourself! Because you don’t want to deal with me as I am!”

“Fine,” Hux says. “You’re angry. That really doesn’t help you. I am no Jedi. I cannot guess your thoughts, especially since they change every five minutes, so how about you stop yelling at me and sit down? You want to talk about this, let’s talk. If you’re unable to lead a normal conversation, don’t blame me if I make the decision on my own.”

Ben stares at him in outraged silence for a while. Then he slowly walks to the chair opposite Hux and sits down.

“You don’t want to lose the connection to the Force,” Hux says.

Ben shakes his head, still sulking. “I like it,” he says finally. “It’s overwhelming but I like it. This is the way I was supposed to be. I can’t go back to the half-person I was before.”

Hux smirks. “What about the dark side? No sudden wickedness and desire for destruction rising inside you?”

“And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t even believe in the dark side,” Ben says and looks up at Hux. “And who has done more destruction than anyone else I know. You were right, by the way. There isn't really darkness or light. There is just… a whole lot of stuff.”

“Aren’t you afraid the Supreme Commander is going to try to lure you over?”

“I am not a child anymore. I can tell if someone is accessing my thoughts. He won’t be able to just persuade me to join him.”

“Ben, you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen.”

“Seventeen. Same difference. You’re of the most impressionable age there is. Every single media outlet out there is specifically designed to imprint certain ideals and values onto your age group because it’s so easy. And Snoke might be an imbecile when it comes to military decisions, but he has a terrifying knowledge of the human psyche. If he tries to influence you, chances are you won’t even realize it.”

“I have heard him before. I know what he sounds like.”

Hux shakes his head. “Not good enough. Now listen. There is a training program every soldier has to go through. Not only our stormtroopers, every military training facility does it. It prepares the men for when they are taken prisoner and tortured by the enemy for information. Not just physical torture, mental manipulation and extortion as well. Ever since Skywalker and the Jedi have reappeared, it covers mind-probing, too. Every soldier is trained to withstand basic techniques and to close their minds off to the enemies’ attempts to probe into them. The higher officers receive even more thorough training.”

“Did you?” Ben asks.

“Yes. Phasma as well. And she has brought several of those men along from the First Order. I will tell her to send for one of them to come here. He will train you to make sure Snoke can’t even come close to you. Your powers are strong, you should be able to fight him off entirely once you get the trick.”

Ben has gotten hold of the hem of his shirt and is fiddling with it. “That would have been a useful lesson before I was taken hostage,” he mutters.

“Not our responsibility. Now, there are conditions for you. One, no using the Force against the staff in any way. If I find out you used it against my men even once, I will tie you up and force those damn kyber crystals back onto you. Don’t even try to shrug it off as one of your little Force-hiccups in front of me, that won’t work. Two, you will cooperate with the trainer Phasma chooses for you. This deal is only valid as long as he reports to me that you are sincerely working on the techniques he teaches you. Understood?”

“Does that mean I don’t have to wear the Force-bonds again?” Ben asks. He lets go of his shirt and a hopeful gleam steals into his eyes.

Hux stands up. “For the time being, yes. But remember. Every privilege you receive can be rescinded if you don’t behave yourself. No Force-choking the kitchen staff. And no Jedi-tricking them into a rebellion.”

“I won’t.” Ben jumps up and suddenly Hux is caught in a hug that almost throws him off his feet. “Thank you.”

“Let go of me.”

“Why?” Ben asks into his shoulder. “Are you that uncomfortable with physical contact?”

“I came out here to have a conversation and right now I am feeling positively assaulted. It is rather an attest to the complete incompetence of your guards that they haven’t come to my rescue yet. Besides, you’re getting my clothes wet. And dirty.”

Ben chuckles without letting go. “They love me more than they fear you. How long will you stay?”

“Until Phasma is here,” Hux replies. He turns his head until he doesn’t breathe in black curls anymore. “Once I have made sure everything is in order I will return to the capital.”

“When are you coming back?”

“No idea. The journey isn’t exactly a piece of cake. I have to lay several false trails and change vehicles and direction several times to make sure no one follows me. I most certainly don’t intend to do that more often than necessary.”

“So you’re just going to leave me with your subordinates?”

“Why, are you going to miss me?” Hux pats Ben on the back as he doesn’t seem willing to relent the hug yet. “Phasma will be here whenever she doesn’t have to take care of the fleet. That should be enough. And now let go of me, kitten, or I’ll scream for help.”

 

Phasma is bearing a new scar that cuts through her forehead and her hairline right above her left eyebrow. If it hadn’t been for her helmet (that has been cut in two in the fight) her skull would have been split neatly apart.

“It makes you look like a warrior,” Ben says.

“I am a warrior,” she replies. She is standing behind him, carding her fingers through his curls. “It’s so short now, I can’t even braid it.”

“That’s his fault.” Ben points his caf mug at Hux.

“It was necessary,” Hux says without looking up from his datapad. “Why would you want to braid it anyway?”

“Because it’s pretty,” Phasma says and Hux can hear Ben’s exasperated huff even from the other side of the room.

“I’m a man, I’m not supposed to be pretty,” he complains and then, to Hux, “You could just sit down, you know. You’re hovering, it’s making me nervous.”

“You won’t get him to sit down,” Phasma says. “He gets irritable when he doesn’t stand. After a while he starts fidgeting, it’s unbearable. And you’re still a boy. If boys aren’t allowed to be pretty anymore, who is even left?”

“I’m seventeen now,” Ben says and then he turns to Hux. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

Phasma lets go of his hair and sits down. She is still not fully rehabilitated. Kylo Ren let out her entire anger on her. They have been close comrades for years. Phasma’s betrayal must have stung. Himself, on the other hand, Hux is sure Kylo Ren is jubilant to have finally gotten rid of.

“Kylo Ren is travelling around the eastern mining planets right now, isn’t she?”

“Travelling is a nice way to put it,” Hux responds. “She is slaughtering her way through the Resistance and the local villagers. The Starfleet is trying to protect them, but as always the Senate is too slow with approving the deployment of new units.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Ben waves his hand dismissively. Hux looks up and squints at him. “But that means the Finalizer is rather unprotected at the moment.”

“It doesn’t have to be protected,” Phasma says. “The Resurgent-class Stardestroyer has the best security system in the whole Galaxy. Nobody could even come close to that beast without three different alarms going off.”

“But.” Ben leans forward. “What if a ship was recognized as friendly? Then it should be possible to get on board without anybody noticing for a while. I mean, do the First Order really know exactly which ship still belongs to them and which you guys have taken along?”

Hux slowly lowers his datapad with a frown. It’s not hard to guess what Ben is hinting at. “Possibly not,” he says. “But there is a chance they have implemented different security measures. Checkpoints, registry systems, those kinds of things.”

“But they’re all still new and right now nobody has an overview, right?” Ben has begun to squirm on his chair, eyes blazing in suspicious determination. “I mean, if someone were to try to get in there now, someone who formerly belonged to the First Order...”

“We are not going to free Han Solo,” Hux says in his sharpest voice. It is pretty sharp. Ben shuts his mouth and glowers at him. Phasma hides her smirk behind her own mug of tea.

“There is literally no risk for you,” Ben eventually tries anew. “You burn through your troopers like through blaster shots. What does it matter if you send one or two to the Finalizer? He’s my father. I can’t just let him rot there.”

“Well, what do you have to offer, then?” Hux asks. “There might be no risk but there is no gain for us, either. If you want him freed so badly, you better come up with a better reason than that you really, really want it.”

“Kylo Ren offered, you know,” Phasma says. “If we deliver you to Snoke they will return Solo to us. You want to trade places with your father?”

“Fine. Trade me.” Ben stares defiantly first at Phasma, then at Hux. “Do you honestly think I weren’t prepared to lay down my own life to save my father?”

“You wouldn’t lay down your life,” Hux retorts. “You would sell it to the darkest Jedi there ever was. Snoke would never even think about killing you. He’d turn you into a second Kylo Ren. That man you see in your dreams? The one you fear so badly? Turn yourself in to the Supreme Commander and that is who you’re going to become. He will torture everything light and good out of you if need be. He’ll turn you into a killing machine. You think it will be as easy as dying for your father? Nothing about this will be easy. What will you do if in a few years you stand in front of your father again and Snoke leaves you no choice but to kill him?”

“Don’t talk about sacrifice without knowing what it means,” Phasma adds softly. “Your father knew fully well what he got himself into. There is nothing you can do for him now.”

Ben stares at her with a suspicious glistening in his eyes. Hux groans. They haven’t had crying Ben for quite a while now, but of course the prospect of having inadvertently caused his father’s death does it.

“I have to try anyway.” He swallows. “Please, it wouldn’t be without gain for you guys. My mother might act like she doesn’t care about him anymore, but I am sure she is still terribly worried about him. You want her to soften her opposition towards you? Get my father out of there, show her that she doesn’t have to worry all the time. She will have less issues trusting you with me if you just prove to her that you aren’t enemies by default.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Phasma says. “Drop it, Ben. If the Resistance wants to risk their hide they are welcome to try. But we can’t just send our stormtroopers halfway through the Galaxy because you miss your dad.”

Hux regards the boy carefully. He is wiping at his tears and biting his soft lips almost bloody, but he isn’t throwing a tantrum yet. This time he really is desperate.

“I promised your mother a message from you,” Hux finally says. “Give me nice, compliant Ben who is happy to be staying with us here on Hosnian Prime and doesn’t try to sneak covert hints about his location or the Starkiller or anything else into that message and I will see if we find someone who might be able to fly such a mission.”

Phasma raises both eyebrows at him.

Before Hux can dodge, he is caught in another embrace from a now openly crying Ben.

“Stop that,” he orders. “This is physical assault.”

“I don’t care.” Ben is clinging to him with almost painful fervour. “You’re going to save my father, I’ll owe you hugs for the rest of my life.”

 

Chewbacca is in deep, noisy conversation with the other pilots as Poe approaches them. They keep him company whenever possible. Han Solo’s sudden and secret departure has been even harder on his first mate than on anyone else. Sometimes they take him out flying with them to keep him distracted.

“What’s the verdict?” Shana asks Poe. “Are we gonna join the rest in the east or what?”

Poe shakes his head in frustration. “General Organa wants us to stay here on Hosnian Prime for now to keep an eye on the situation with the First Order insurgents.”

Chewie emits an annoyed shriek that sums Poe’s own feelings up pretty well.

Shana shrugs. “She wants her son back. This is the Republic’s responsibility, anyway. They’d do well to approve more units stat, if they want to keep milking those planets.” Everyone in the Resistance knows about Ben’s true identity and the full situation by now.

“We could ask the insurgents’ general for help,” another pilot jokes. “They have a whole fleet in the Outer Rim, what else are they doing right now?”

“Can you see them working together with us? Really?” Shana asks.

Poe grins. If there is one person in the Resistance that hates the First Order and everyone who once belonged to them more than him and General Organa, it’s Shana. Two years ago one of the First Order raids on the Outer Rim took her entire family. She won’t forgive any of them so easily.

“I’ll go along on another meeting with the general tomorrow,” he says. “Maybe we can get some intel on the First Order. Even if we have to stay here for now, there are still ways to help our comrades in battle, remember that.”

“Why can’t Luke Skywalker go and finish Kylo Ren off once and for all?” one of the men asks.

Good question, Poe muses as he makes his way back to his quarters. Ever since General Organa has explained to him that she wants Kylo Ren dead the moment the chance arises, Luke has done his utmost to avoid any opportunity to face her. He doesn’t like killing Force-sensitives, Poe knows that. He still likes to believe that there is a way to turn them back towards the light, even the person who has tortured his best friend. So instead of facing and ending the issue he has holed himself up on his academy on Coruscant and keeps busy trying not to involve his Jedi in the fight.

They meet the general in person. He is back in the capital. When he left Poe and several people from the reconnaissance unit of the Resistance did their utmost to track him. They followed him for hours across the countryside, only to realize at one point that the person they were tracking wasn’t even General Hux. He was just a regular soldier, disguised almost perfectly. Nobody could tell at which stop and turn they had lost the real general. When they returned to the capital and tried to find out which way to go instead, the trace had already gone cold.

“Next time,” General Organa said in a weak attempt to comfort them as if the one needing the comfort wasn’t her.

“Don’t you dare attack him,” she says now as they are standing in the restaurant, waiting to be seated. “We can’t risk anything, not here. I will lose my standing in the Senate and I might never see Ben again. Behave yourself.”

“I was never planning to attack him,” Poe defends himself. “I know how to behave in a tricky situation.”

She throws him a glance from below raised eyebrows. He returns a remorseful grin.

The talk goes quite differently than he expected it to. Naturally it begins with a fight, though.

“You promised me your decisions on the Force-bonds, General,” Leia Organa says to Hux. “We have offered you protection and a secure location so please tell me that you are at least thinking about it.”

He shakes his head. “I have decided against it and this decision is final. It’s a risk I won’t take. Your son has been fine so far without the Force-bonds, I am sure he will manage somehow.”

Poe doesn’t like what he is hearing, but mostly because it comes out of the general’s mouth and it couldn’t be phrased any more self-centric. He has never expected a different answer, anyway, and he isn’t sure whether he actually minds. He has seen the message the general relayed to them from Ben. The boy has grown. His thin frame has filled out and his skin is less milky and more human-like. Poe hates to admit it but he looks good. He is turning into a beautiful young man, lean stature and long-strung muscles and an expressive physiognomy one can’t ever get out of their head again after one look.

General Organa, on the other hand, is anything but pleased. “You can’t be serious, General. Just for a moment, think about the child instead of your egotistic goals. He needs these bonds. You are denying something to him he cannot live without.”

“He is living quite fine,” Hux replies. “My choice is final. I can’t consider my hostage’s needs with every decision I make.”

“What will you do if Snoke approaches him? Will you take responsibility for turning my son to the dark side?”

“You are acting like it mattered to me either way. He is sixteen, no, seventeen years old. He should be able to withstand a few alluring whispers from the dark side. And if he doesn’t, well, I have been dealing with dark Jedi before. This is your worst fear, not mine.”

Her anger clouds her face in darkness. “Your behaviour is utterly irresponsible, General,” she hisses. “Ben is a sensible child and you are risking his entire future because of your unwillingness to cooperate.”

“Who says anything about me not cooperating?” he asks and leans back in his chair. “I have in fact been intending to ask you for your assistance in a different matter.” She opens her mouth, most certainly to point out the preposterousness of his words, but he doesn’t let her speak. “After careful deliberation I have decided to send someone to free Han Solo from the First Order. Kylo Ren is busy with her conquest missions at the moment, which means that we only have machine detection to worry about, no Jedi mind-reading powers. Now, since he is one of yours I was wondering if you, by any chance, would like to send one of your own men onto the mission? If he doesn’t behave too suspicious it should be possible to make him into one of the stormtroopers and send him onto the Finalizer.”

Before General Organa can answer Poe leans forward and puts his hand on the table with much more force than he intended. The bang makes several people stare. General Hux turns towards him and shoots him a questioning look.

“I will go,” Poe says. “I will go rescue Han Solo.”

They both turn towards General Organa. She seems undecided between anger and bewilderment at Hux’s surprisingly generous offer. Finally she sighs. “If you want to,” she says, “I suppose we can make that happen. But in the matter of the Force-bonds, General, the last word hasn’t been spoken yet.”

He smiles at those words, but it doesn’t look like a concession on his part. More like he knows things even General Organa has no knowledge about. It is clear he doesn’t intend to share, though.

“So just to clear things up,” Poe says. “I will do this mission with a stormtrooper from the insurgency who disguises himself and me as stormtroopers from the First Order and is able to sneak us on board the Finalizer while Kylo Ren is busy on the eastern mining planets?”

“Yes,” General Hux replies. “It should be easy enough, don’t you think?”


	9. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of action this time!   
> And yes, I shamelessly borrowed lines from the movie for the flirtatious banter ;)

The stormtrooper is waiting at the sleek ship General Hux has provided for them. He is wearing his armour and his helmet. There could be anybody beneath that mask.

Poe approaches him in regular clothes instead of his Resistance gear. He will have to change into that hideous armour, anyway. It looks terribly uncomfortable.

The general himself is nowhere to be seen. Poe has said his goodbyes to General Organa earlier already.

“If you get in danger, don’t risk your life to free him,” she told him. “Just get out. You will help neither me nor Han if you die for him, remember that.”

Easier said than done. Now Poe is standing in front of this man he is supposed to entrust his life to. The man that looks exactly like the enemy he has learned to hate all through his life.

The stormtrooper raises his hands and pulls off his helmet. Then he stretches out his hand. “FN 2187,” he says. “Pleased to meet you.”

He is younger than expected; a strapping young man, black skin, stern eyes, determination edged in his features, but no hardness yet. He must be closer to Ben in his age than to Poe.

Poe takes the hand and shakes it. “FN… what?” he asks. He has already forgotten the rest of those digits.

“FN 2187,” the young man repeats.

“What does that mean?”

“That is my number.”

“What about your name?”

“I don’t have a name.”

“Everybody has a name. What did your parents call you or were you created in a test tube?”

He could just as well be. He looks like someone Poe wouldn’t mind having a dozen of around, after all.

“I don’t remember my parents. FN 2187. That’s all they ever gave me.”

“Well, I ain’t remembering that,” Poe decides. “FN, huh? How about I call you Finn? Would that be okay?”

The young man stares at him for a second. He keeps his face expressionless, the soldier look Poe is used from many men (and women) in the Resistance and the Starfleet. Finally, though, he relents and gives Poe a hint of a grin.

“Finn is fine, I guess.”

“I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“Pleased to meet you, Poe Dameron.”

Poe nods towards the Starship. “Is that what we’re gonna use to get on board the Finalizer?”

Finn shakes his head. “This is the ship we are going to use to travel to the eastern planets. We still have several contacts in the First Order who feed us information. We know exactly where Kylo Ren is going to be and which unit of Stormtroopers are being sent back to the Finalizer. We will land on one of the planets that doesn’t have Kylo Ren and her Knights around and will assume the identity of two Stormtroopers from the First Order. Then we will mingle with the rest of them and get ourselves shipped to the main fleet. From there it will be easy to access the Finalizer. For our return it doesn’t matter much which ship we use. You are a pilot, right?”

“I’m the best pilot in the Resistance,” Poe responds. He doesn’t like to show it, but he is impressed. The plan, whoever has designed it, be it General Hux or his captain or Finn himself, sounds rather reasonable and a lot more feasible than Poe has hoped for. “I can get us out of anywhere. How big is the risk of being found out before we reach the Finalizer?”

“If we keep our heads down and don’t attract attention, rather small I hope,” Finn replies. “I will teach you some basics on the First Order while we travel. Follow these and you should be fine.”

They set out from Hosnian Prime. The fly silently for a while, Poe steering the ship, Finn in the co-pilot’s seat. When they begin talking, it is mostly Poe at first. He talks about his family, his sister, his training. That is where Finn chimes in and tells him of his fellow troopers and the shenanigans they played before Captain Phasma took over the training. After that they quickly learned to keep their antics to themselves if they didn’t want to regret it.

“Have you ever been in a real battle?” Poe asks.

“Have you?”

“Countless times. I have fired so many shots from my X-Wing I sometimes think I could fill an ocean with them. But you’re so young, I can’t imagine you out there on the battlefield already.”

“Once,” Finn replies. “A few months ago, when General Hux and Captain Phasma set out to kill the Queen of Naboo.”

Poe turns around and stares at Finn. “You were among those who attacked us on our way to Hosnian Prime?”

“Yes,” Finn replies without the slightest hint of remorse. “Isn’t it funny how the Queen ended up at Hosnian Prime nonetheless?”

“Do you know where?” Poe asks.

Finn shakes his head. “They were very careful to select a stormtrooper who doesn’t know anything about the boy’s location. I have been on one of the last bases held by the insurgency until now. I have only just arrived on Hosnian Prime.”

“Pity,” Poe mutters. “Have you never felt bad for him? He is just one defenceless boy taken prisoner by your vicious general, after all.”

“It is rather difficult to feel pity for someone if you have to bear his screaming all the time on the base,” Finn counters.

Poe stares at him again. “You were on the same base with him?”

“For a while, yes.”

“What caused him to scream?” What in all seven blazes did they do to the boy for all those months?

“I think it was General Hux, mostly. Usually when he was crying or screaming it had something to do with the general.”

The words leave Poe unable to speak. The sudden rage against the general is too hot, burning his throat raw, nearly making his heart explode.

_Kill him. I am going to kill him._

“Most of the time I’d keep away whenever I could,” Finn continues, unbothered by his partner’s silence. “That’s usually the smart thing to do, especially with someone as sadistic as General Hux.”

“But he didn’t have that choice,” Poe forces out against the sickness that is taking hold of him.

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, you’d think with them occupying adjoining rooms and all they’d keep those encounters within their own walls. But no, they seemed to find a certain pleasure in forcing everybody to witness them. It wasn’t always pretty. I just remember the mess in the weapon’s storage,” Finn shudders. “And of course the boy had to clean it up afterwards. It took him a whole week to recover from that.”

“You mean…”

“Oh, I’d really like to not dwell on it.” Finn waves his hand. “No use anyway. There are certain forces you better not even try to fight, especially not as a normal man.”

For a few minutes they both fall silent.

He has done it then. The general with the cold eyes and the cruel smirk and the heart turned to stone. He has taken for himself what Poe would never even dare consider. Soft brown eyes, skin white as porcelain, always so afraid of everything, of failing, of losing to the darkness, of being abused for his standing and his power. He has taken it all for himself.

And Poe has let it happen.

_I will never forgive myself for this._

“How can you ever feel happy at a place like this?” he eventually asks Finn with carefully suppressed rage. He can’t blame the stormtrooper that he didn’t try to intervene. He would have forfeited his own life. Certain forces he can’t fight and all that.

“Well, I’m not there anymore, am I,” Finn replies.

“No, I mean underneath someone like Hux in general,” Poe says.

Finn shrugs. “I don’t spend much time with him. It is usually Captain Phasma who oversees us.”

“You have a number instead of a name and a helmet that makes sure as hell that nobody will ever be able to distinguish you from the people around you. Don’t you feel… undervalued?”

“It is kind of liberating to be no different from the rest,” Finn replies thoughtfully. “At least most of the time.”

“And the rest of the time? What if you want to be for yourself for a while but you can’t? That is not how human beings are supposed to be treated.”

Suddenly the young trooper looks pissed. “You’re acting like I am less than a human being. You have no idea how it is to serve in the First Order. Or the insurgency. It’s not all bad, you know.”

“Did you choose?”

“Choose what?”

“To secede from the First Order? Or was that Captain Phasma who chose for you?”

Finn falls silent for a while. Eventually he answers, “It was the captain. But I was relieved. Most of the men in my squad were. We didn’t like the idea of working on the Starkiller and we don’t have to anymore…”

“The what?”

Finn shuts his mouth tightly. “Nothing. Forget what I said.”

“You said Starkiller. What is the Starkiller?”

“Nothing. Not important.”

“Does it really kill stars?”

“Look,” Finn says and points at the screen. “We have almost arrived. Now listen carefully. I will explain to you how to conduct yourself and you better follow my lead, understood?”

Poe shoots him a suspicious glance, but he decides to leave that conversation for later.

“Shoot,” he says.

 

They land far away from the First Order ships. Their own Fighter is the same model as those around them and with the fight still going on nobody notices them. They sneak into the village where the stormtroopers are staying.

The plan is easy enough. They get their hands on two troopers from the First Order and knock them out, drag them back to their ship and tie them up in there. Then they send the ship with autopilot to the nearest unit of the insurgency. They cannot risk anybody finding out that two stormtroopers have been abducted, or people will start searching the unit for impersonators. Of course that means that their only way to leave the planets is by executing their plan perfectly. They either succeed or they are trapped forever, if not worse.

They take the armour and the tracking devices, as well as the blasters from the stormtroopers.

“You fasten it inside the breastplate,” Finn explains to Poe and clips his own tracker into place. He puts on the new helmet and lifts his blaster. With a few practiced pushes he activates the blaster. “Now it’s set to my number,” he explains.

With Finn’s help Poe does the same.

“You are number JD 5389,” Finn says. “And I am JD 5412. Remember that number. For the duration of our stay with the First Order this is the only name you will use for yourself. Now come on. Don’t speak unless spoken to. And for star’s sake, don’t talk to me, whatever you think needs talking about.”

It is fascinating to watch. The gentle young stormtrooper who travelled with Poe to the planet has turned into quite the commander all of a sudden. He seems to know exactly what he is doing, as if he has never done anything else but infiltrating former workplaces of his. In return it gives Poe the confidence in the mission he so desperately needs.

They return to the village. Finn leads Poe to their squad. Just in time. The squad leader, marked with a red pad on his shoulder, orders them inside the Destroyer standing ready.

“We’ll return to the base,” he calls.

“I heard Kylo Ren will come here today,” one of the troopers says.

“It’s about time,” the squad leader responds. “She will make sure those peasants don’t try any of their idiotic tricks ever again.”

Once they are inside the door closes. Nobody moves. Poe resists turning his head to check the spot where Finn is standing. He keeps perfectly still, waiting for the Destroyer to depart.

It doesn’t happen. Instead the airlocks open once again and another squad leader comes running inside.

“Reinforcements from the southern villages have arrived,” he cries. “Your departure has been postponed for a few hours. You need to help us with these, they are local guards and quite a few at that.”

“Come on,” their leader says. “Out, all of you.”

This time Poe does turn to Finn. The convenient little chip in his helmet tells him exactly which stormtrooper to look for.

“What now?” he asks into the general noise.

“We have to fight,” Finn responds.

“I can’t. These are villagers. I can’t kill them. I didn’t expect this to happen.”

Finn takes him by the arm and pulls him along. “You have to. You need to shoot that blaster. You don’t need to hit anybody, but they have sensors built in that count how many times you shoot. You’ll become suspicious to them if you don’t shoot. Aim for the ground or the trees or anything, but you will have to fire a few rounds.”

It’s a nightmare. The village guards are brave and they have blasters as well, but they don’t stand a chance against the trained and armoured stormtroopers.

It’s a battle like none Poe has ever fought before. He never shoots first and he never aims to kill. He has killed before, sure, but only if it was necessary. Never an innocent person. Never someone fighting for their own life. Never somebody helpless.

This isn’t necessary. They could easily incapacitate the men and take them prisoner. But the orders are clear. Shoot everyone, not only the guards but the rest of the villagers as well.

“Let’s teach them a lesson in submission!” the squad leader cries.

Poe knows he can work it without killing anybody. He is that good a shot. He can hit the ground, make a few pebbles dance. He can hit a house wall and leave nice gaping holes. What he cannot do is not see the dying around him. Once again he is right in the middle of the battle, evil against innocent, and once again he cannot save a single person. He watches the villagers get slaughtered, listens to screams and wails and the sounds of blaster shots hitting flesh. He refuses to avert his eyes. He will remember this for the rest of his life.

When the cries die down and the movements stop, the squad leader hurries them back into the Destroyer.

“Kylo Ren and her Knights will be here soon,” he says. “As grateful as I am that she will take over for us, I can gladly do without having to report to her personally. We should be on our way back to the base anyway.”

This time they do depart, just before Kylo Ren lands. It’s different from before. The men pant under their masks, still charged up from the fight. A stench lies in the air, of blood and dirt and death. The stormtroopers seem incapable of staying still; they shift and turn and sometimes someone whispers a few words to their neighbour and they laugh.

When they land at the base several hours later it is a relief to leave the close confinements of the ship. Poe steps out onto the hangar like everyone else. He submits the blaster for inspection and receives it back an hour later. By now the others have eaten and found their way to the common area of the base. Not so Poe and Finn. They can’t take their helmets off without anybody noticing the mix-up.

After things have calmed down at the base Finn leads Poe away from the rest of the troopers, back towards the hangar. In a narrow alley with no one else around, he stops and removes his helmet.

“What are you doing?” Poe asks.

Finn stares at him wide-eyed and shivering. His pupils are dilated.

“This was your first proper battle, wasn’t it,” Poe says. Finn only nods. “Quite different from what you experienced before I suppose,” Poe says. “These kinds of scenes can easily turn a grown man’s stomach. You’re shell-shocked. I have seen it before. Take deep breaths, but we have to go on. We have to leave, unless you want to go through something like that again.”

“I… I think I shot someone.”

“You hit one of the villagers?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. They were so helpless. They couldn’t even defend themselves. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to kill…”

“It’s okay,” Poe interrupts him. “You don’t know for sure. You couldn’t have saved them anyway. Come on. You want to get out of here, don’t you?”

Finn slowly puts his helmet back on. “I am so glad that I don’t work for them anymore.”

“Don’t think your General Hux and Captain Phasma are better,” Poe mutters. “If anything, they are worse.”

Finn doesn’t answer.

It is easier than expected. Several ships leave for the Finalizer. When they tell the captain they are supposed to return with the squad, he simply nods and waves them on board.

 

The Finalizer is easily the most impressive Stardestroyer Poe has ever seen. It is bigger even than the base they stayed at before. The hangar is bustling with troopers and personnel. Breaking away from the squad amongst the chaos is easy enough.

Finn leads him through several long hallways until they end up in a less crowded area far away from any operations.

“We should try and sabotage the ship, since we’re here already,” Poe suggests, but Finn hisses at him.

“If they find us we are done for. Don’t get yourself in even greater danger.”

They reach a guard in front of a heavily bolted door.

“Is this the prisoner Han Solo?” Finn asks. “We were told to bring him upstairs.”

“Are they finally going to kill him?” the guard asks while he unlocks the door. “He has been held in here for weeks now. What good is he for, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Finn responds. “I was only told to bring him to the information retrieval chambers.”

“Again?” The guard opens the door and lets them inside. “Poor devil. They should really just kill him and be done with it.”

The man inside the cell looks nothing like the man Poe met a few weeks ago at the Resistance base. He is thin and pale, with cuts and bruises all across his skin. The thin beard and the grey, bloodied streaks in his hair give him an even more haggard look.

“Can you walk?” Poe asks. He doesn’t have to fake the contempt in his voice. He will do anything to get Han Solo back to the Resistance. He cannot bear the thought of having a man of their own held and tortured by the First Order. That doesn’t change, however, the anger he feels at this man for risking his own son’s life for a chance to play the hero. He would die for Han Solo. It doesn’t mean he has to like him.

Solo staggers to his feet when Finn grabs his arm. Together Poe and Finn haul him out of the cell and into the hallway. His steps turn more secure after he has walked for a while.

Poe turns back to the guard. “What about the other prisoners?” he asks. “The ones that were brought on the ship together with the Queen.”

The man stares at him blankly. “You mean the bodyguards? They have been disposed of weeks ago. How come you didn’t know?”

Poe squares his jar as a cold fist clenches inside his guts. They are dead. His men are dead. Ben might still be alive but he has let his men die in a place like this. He should just kill that guard.

He doesn’t, of course. Instead he says, “I just returned from the east. My bad, I must have confused that.”

They walk away slowly.

“Was that really necessary?” Finn hisses.

“Yeah,” Poe whispers back. “Information retrieval chambers?” he asks Finn in his normal voice as soon as they are out of earshot from the guard.

“The torture chambers,” Finn says. “They are kind of the opposite direction from the hangars, but I don’t think the guard will check. He is probably glad to be relieved of his duty for a while.”

Solo turns his head and stares at Poe. “I know your voice…” he says slowly.

“Don’t take off the mask,” Finn warns Poe. “And don’t change your pace. They have cameras everywhere around here. Let’s just walk to the hangar and get out of here as fast as we can. Can you fly a TIE?”

“I can fly anything,” Poe responds. To Solo he says, “I am Poe Dameron. We are here to get you out. Try to stay quiet until we’re in the air.”

“Resistance,” Solo whispers and then he shuts up.

They reach the hangar. Finn leads them to one of the TIEs parked neatly at the wall.

“Get in,” he says.

“Hey!”

Just as Poe climbs into the pilot’s seat, one of the squad leaders comes running towards them. “What are you doing with the prisoner?”

Poe stretches his hand towards Han Solo to pull him into the small fighter.

Finn turns towards the running man. “It’s okay,” he says. “Personal request from Kylo Ren.”

“I will have to check that. You can’t take off until I have confirmation from Ren.” The squad leader activates his com-link. “Stay exactly where you are,” he orders Finn.

For a few seconds Poe fears that Finn will obey the order. He most certainly seems tempted to do that. Cursing, Poe starts the engine and gets ready to shut the door, when the young stormtrooper suddenly turns around and jumps onto the platform of the TIE.

“Get in, quickly,” Poe urges him. As soon as Finn has taken position at the cannon he locks the door and shoots forward.

On the ground the squad leader stops talking into his com-link and starts running after their TIE. Poe watches him wave and shout in one of the rear cameras, but he can’t hear him from inside the fighter.

“Faster,” Finn urges.

The engine howls. A cannon shot surges past them and hits the wall.

“Now they are shooting at us!” Finn screams.

“What did you expect?” Poe returns. “Shoot back. Try to hit one of those big machines on the ground. That oughta distract them for a while.”

They dash out of the Finalizer just as the first airlock begins to close. The rear cannons chase them as they duck below the belly of the ship.

“Away, away!” Finn cries.

“I know!” Poe yells. “Believe it or not, this is not the first time I have to escape a Stardestroyer.”

“Hit the cannons, boy,” Han Solo chimes in. “What do you have those weapons for?”

“I am hitting the cannons! At least I’m trying to! It’s not as easy as it looks.”

The further they fly from the Finalizer the less dense the fire becomes. Poe flies in wild zigzag. The TIE is small and agile; it will be almost impossible for the unwieldy cannons of the Stardestroyer to shoot with precision.

As soon as they are out of reach he pulls off his helmet and turns around with a grin. “Well, if that wasn’t fun,” he says.

Finn has taken off his helmet as well. He stares back panting. “That was crazy,” he says. “Do you do stuff like this all the time?”

Poe shrugs, still grinning. He turns to Han Solo. “How are you doing?” he asks.

“I will live. I owe you guys.” He wipes the sweat off his face. “Do you have water?”

Finn pulls out a can and hands it to him. “I’ve heard stories of you,” he says. “I always thought you were bigger. And looked more menacing.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Solo drains the can and exhales deeply. “How is Ben?”

“On Hosnian Prime,” Poe replies. “Away from Snoke and Kylo Ren. Not with us, though. Hux has gone rogue and seceded from the First Order. He might just have become even more dangerous than before.” He looks into the rear camera again. The Finalizer is getting smaller by the minute. Several other TIEs have been deployed in pursuit of them, but they will never be able to reach them, not with Poe behind the steering wheel. Then Poe suddenly notices the planet behind the Stardestroyer. It is huge against its sun, and it looks… wrong. It looks as though someone had ripped it in half, leaving a huge, deep rift in the middle. Construction is going on there, big and busy enough to be seen even from the distance. A suspicion dawns on him.

“Is that the Starkiller?” he asks.

“Yes,” Finn answers, resigned.

“Ben is still with the enemy?” Solo inquires.

“We could have gotten him out by now, but when Kylo Ren learned from you his true identity those hopes were squashed. Now the insurgency general is using him as collateral to ensure General Organa doesn’t protest his seat in the Senate. It’s not operational, yet, is it? The Starkiller, I mean.”

“I really can’t talk about the Starkiller,” Finns says. “Not without General Hux’s permission.”

Poe turns around again. “You saw what the First Order is capable of. You watched those villagers die. They were helpless. Innocent. That thing looks like it can easily clean up an entire planet. Do you want to support that? More lives lost to a lunatic Order that doesn’t give the slightest regards to human lives?”

Finn meets his eyes. Hesitantly he says, “Let’s just get to the base first. We will see what to do after that.”

“Right,” Poe says. “We’re not going to the insurgents’ base, though. The Resistance has sent a ship to a moon in the Borderlands. We will meet them there and travel back to Hosnian Prime with them.”

“When have you decided that?” Finn frowns. “This is not what we agreed upon.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but we really don’t have any reason to trust the general. Korr Sella and I have worked it out. There would be nothing to stop you from keeping us prisoner once we reach your base. We can’t risk that. Sella and a few of our men will ensure our safety until we have reached the Core Worlds.”

“You could do the same with me,” Finn responds angrily. “How do I know you won’t just keep me prisoner?”

“Well, contrary to the First Order and your general, the Resistance tends to keep their word. Don’t worry. We don’t plan on making you stay against your will. I really don’t understand how you can return to those monsters, but…”

“We should keep him, you know,” Han Solo says. “Make him tell us of the Starkiller. That thing looks nasty. I have witnessed and helped destroy two Death Stars in my time, I know how to recognize a planet-pulverizing weapon.”

“We can’t keep him,” Poe returns. “We are trying to play it the diplomatic way. You can thank General Organa for that.”

“I don’t feel comfortable to concede anything to somebody who holds my son hostage.”

“I have told her the same thing. But then, she is the one who has been able to receive messages of Ben that tells us he is alive and seems unharmed.” He doesn’t mention what Finn has told him of General Hux’s treatment of Ben on the base. This is nothing a father should have to hear. “All you managed to do so far is get yourself taken prisoner and give your son up to his worst enemy.”

“Alright, I screwed up,” Solo admits. “I’ll shut up now. Wake me when we reach Korr Sella.”

They all fall silent. Suddenly the rush of the rescue and the escape has let them out of its grip and exhaustion takes over. Poe can hear Han Solo’s ragged breath and the quiet clinking of armour parts as Finn begins to shiver.

He keeps his eyes trained on his monitors. In a few hours they will have reached their reinforcement unit.


	10. Deserter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intrigue... conspiracies... and how could a QoN chapter be perfect without Ben getting pissed at Hux ;)

When Hux learns that the mission to free Han Solo has been a success he decides to make the way to the country residence to tell Ben.

“You’re indulging yourself, I see,” Phasma remarks as Hux informs her via intercom. She is on her way back to the fleet in the Outer Rim already.

“How is having to travel for hours on different routes, constantly watching out for a tail ‘indulging myself’?” Hux asks.

“You’re indulging in Ben’s happiness and gratitude. Be careful, Sir. He might teach you the pleasure of altruism yet.”

“You’re acting like I am opposed to altruism on principle,” Hux says stiffly. “As if it wasn’t one of the core values our stormtroopers need to act as a team.”

“You are right, of course, Sir.”

“I have to make decisions not for myself but for the entire governing body every day. It has nothing to do with altruism or egotism. Just figuring out what is doable and what would leave us in an unsolvable mess is already hard enough.”

“How could I have forgotten. Go indulge yourself, Sir.”

It’s not perfect, of course. Hux already half expected the Resistance to send their own envoy to get Han Solo home. He can’t even blame General Organa for her distrust in him. Hearing that Poe Dameron and FN 2187 had landed on Hosnian Prime with a Resistance ship while his own men still waited for their arrival in the Borderlands put a damper on his mood nevertheless. He will have to wait for the report of FN 2187 before he can decide how satisfied he is with the outcome of the rescue-mission.

Ben almost buries him when he hears the news, though.

“Are you sure it’s him?” he asks against Hux’s neck. He is almost as tall as Hux now, and heavy.

“Of course it’s him. Your mother personally received them upon arrival. He has been brought to a medcenter. He will stay there a while but she tells me the doctors are optimistic he will make a full recovery.”

“What about my bodyguards? Did they free them as well?”

“They are dead, Ben. It’s just your father.”

Ben lifts his head and brings some distance between them. He stares Hux in the face with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Hux calmly returns his gaze. Ben doesn’t ask further and Hux chooses not to elaborate.

“I want to see him,” Ben finally says.

“Impossible. He’s in the capital. Your mother is there with him. That should be more than enough for you.”

“He risked his life to save me. I should at least thank him for that.”

“He committed a folly of enormous proportions. There really is no need to thank him for anything.”

Ben shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder what your father must have done to you that you can be so cold-hearted towards a father’s love to his son.”

“This has nothing to do with my father. Besides, there is a difference between running off into the next adventure for your son and being there for him when he needs you. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Thanks,” Ben scowls. “I am so grateful I have you to remind me never to think the best of anybody who might care about me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How long will you stay?”

“A day, maybe two. All these journeys begin to wear me out. I think I might be getting car-sick.”

 

“I have to get back to the general soon,” Finn says.

Poe looks up from his breakfast and grins at Finn. He has been saying that for the last four days. After they have landed on Hosnian Prime and admitted Han Solo into the medcenter Poe and Korr Sella took Finn into their Resistance base. They gave him a room and offered him to stay a few days until General Hux returned to the capital. Again several men from the Resistance had tried tailing the general to wherever he is holding Ben right now and again halfway across the country they had to realize they failed.

“You haven’t told us anything about the Starkiller yet,” he says.

“I don’t know much about it,” Finn replies. “It’s a weapon. It’s supposed to be more powerful than anything the Galaxy has ever seen. But construction has been held up time and again. I was supposed to be stationed there next year, but I have never actually served on the Starkiller myself. General Hux was the one overseeing the construction. If you need proper information on that thing, he is the one to go to.”

“He doesn’t cooperate. He hasn’t even mentioned that monstrosity once, yet.”

“I am sure he will help you eventually. General Hux is no fool. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he had his reservations against the Starkiller. I don’t think he would ever allow it to actually be fired.”

Poe turns back to his breakfast. “If you say so…” Then he adds, “You still don’t have to go, you know. You really proved yourself out there. General Organa herself said that if you ever wanted to join our ranks, she’d be pleased to welcome you to the Resistance.”

Finn frowns. “I have my own squad,” he says. “I have a duty towards them, you know. They are my comrades, just like you have yours. They are willing to fight and to die for me and so am I.”

“Sure.” Poe shrugs. “I am willing to die for my men. Everybody here is. But see, it’s not just my guys. It’s the general as well. She has risked her life on countless missions over the years. She has single-handedly saved countless men of ours from mortal danger. Can you really say the same about that general of yours?”

Finn presses his lips together. “This is not a competition.”

“I am not trying to make it into a competition. I am merely pointing out that for General Organa every single person in the Resistance is of invaluable importance. You saw how the First Order had these villagers slaughtered. Do you honestly think they value the lives of you, their foot soldiers, any higher than the lives of those villagers? They don’t even give you names. They probably don’t know your faces. When you die, you are just a number that gets taken out and reassigned.”

Poe keeps his eyes trained on Finn’s face. He can see the hesitation there. He feels a bit guilty to remind Finn of the atrocities they had to witness. He knows that they plague Finn in his dreams. But over the course of the last few days he has come to think of the young stormtrooper as a friend and he is loth to see that friend return to an Order that won’t even grant him a name and a face. Besides, the idea of taking one of his own men from Hux and turning him into an opponent of the insurgency fills Poe with a burning satisfaction.

“I don’t want to become a traitor,” Finn says quietly.

Poe leans forward. “You are not a traitor. First of all, it was the First Order who betrayed the Republic and refused to adhere to the rules that were set into place for the entire Galaxy. Then General Hux betrayed his own Order out of his self-centred ambition to become leader of his own empire. Everybody betraying everybody, all the damn time. All we are trying to do is keep the civilian population safe from those war-mongers and to make sure everybody plays by the rules. You don’t betray anybody by joining the Resistance. Quite the contrary, in fact. You prove yourself loyal to those who are working tirelessly to protect the innocent.”

Finn lifts his head. He is still frowning. “I don’t want to kill an innocent ever again.”

“Return to the insurgents and they sure as hell will force you to do exactly that.”

“How can you even think I am trustworthy? I have been part of the unit that attacked you and abducted your Queen, and yet you treat me as a friend.”

Poe smiles. He knows he has won. “You never had a choice in what you were doing. Now you do. I am not trying to force you to join us, I am simply offering you that choice. If you accept, you more than deserve a chance to prove yourself.”

 

“I am voting for you, you know,” an old man says at Hux’s elbow. “I have shares in those mines and I refuse to relinquish them to the First Order without a fight. You are right, they are uncontrollable. If only we could get rid of them without everybody in the Senate squawking out their opinion.”

“Thank you,” Hux says bemusedly. His head is still humming from the session. As always the Senate talked for hours and decided nothing. Since every single ambassador has the right to five minutes of speaking time and since there are over a thousand ambassadors, many of which deem their own opinion worth voicing, the sessions usually have to be ended by the Chancellor after hours upon hours of pompous asses snapping at each other. After one of the independents met a tragic accident last week when her ship suddenly lost both engines and crashed into the ground before anyone could escape, naturally cries for more security and a thorough investigation dominated today’s session. Once again the decision to deploy a larger part of the Starfleet to assist the Resistance in the east or to grant Hux’s fleet the permissions necessary to participate in the battle was shelved for a more convenient time.

Hux himself, like most other senators, keeps his bodyguards around him at all time and guards around his ride and his residence to make sure nobody can sabotage anything. Just like Senator Organa, who has escaped more assassination attempts than the Emperor by now, he is certain to be on several hit lists. People won’t try anything too obvious, since both he and Senator Organa have managed to find themselves sufficient backing in the Senate to make their deaths highly suspicious and not without consequences. That doesn’t mean, however, that he doesn’t have to tread very carefully whenever he finds himself in a public place or receives an invitation from one of the dignitaries.

“I didn’t like the Emperor, you know,” the old man continues. “But he did have a very efficient government. For a while he kept the economy admirably stable. Now the stock index is taking the plunge because the First Order is causing trouble and nobody feels confident anymore that the Senate will take care of things.”

There is a certain chance Hux will lose an ear listening to the old man before he can get another word in. But then he sees Ro-Kiintor, strolling towards the exit. Their eyes lock.

“Excuse me,” Hux interrupts the stream of ranting by his fellow senator and leaves him behind to catch up with Ro-Kiintor.

“So glad you could make it today,” he says. “You have been so very busy these last weeks, I almost thought we wouldn’t find a chance to chat.”

Ro-Kiintor shoots him an exasperated look. “Let’s get somewhere less crowded,” he suggests.

They choose a restaurant in the direct vicinity of the Senate that places the highest value on protecting their patrons’ privacy.

“I know you want me to run over to your little insurgency and leave the First Order behind,” Ro-Kiintor says after soup has been served. “But I never cared about your politics. I know you think they are important. You want to play at the big boys’ table, you always did. I chose Snoke because I knew he could get done what nobody else did. He can get rid of the Republic once and for all.”

As calm and collected as he seems Ro-Kiintor still is one of the worst fanatics Hux has ever encountered. He is almost on a level with Kylo Ren herself.

“Several of your supporters don’t seem to share your convictions,” he points out. “I have received more than one covert offer already. And it’s not just your faction in the Senate. The Hutt, too, have no problem in supporting us and the First Order at the same time.”

“Well, I am no Hutt. I will not sit between the tables to wait and see which side wins. Eventually you won’t stand a chance against the Supreme Leader.”

“Fine. I wonder what Senator Organa will have to say to that.”

Ro-Kiintor almost drops his spoon. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Especially with the recent aggressions by the First Order public opinion is quickly turning against them. The Senate still sees them as nothing but a little group of idealists who indulge in fantasies about the old Empire. However, if they were to find out that someone with your clout is actively supporting the First Order, they might just be worried enough to decide that you aren’t worth the risk anymore. You have kept an admirably low profile so far, given how impressive your financial reach is and how many ambassadors are willing to bet on you. Are you sure you are willing to lose your standing now?”

“You can’t oust me,” Ro-Kiintor hisses. “I know about the Starkiller. You have kept it a secret until now, how well do you think the leftist faction will react to that little piece of information? If I fall, I will drag you down with me.”

Hux shrugs. “People already know that I am not trustworthy. They expect the worst of me, so really, there is not much worse you can do to my reputation. Your own, however…”

“I refuse to openly support you!”

“I am not asking for your open support. I am merely asking you to make sure those shares in the Core businesses I have been requesting are getting approved and soon. I know that many of those transactions run through your banks. If things run too slowly, the first person I will turn to is naturally you.”

Ro-Kiintor still looks as though he has just swallowed a bowl of motor oil. “You will get you your shares,” he snarls. “The Force knows you need the assets desperately enough. You may have taken a large part of the fleet with you from the First Order, but you have almost none of their territory and none of their sources of revenue. Until you find yourself a few places that openly declare their allegiance to you, you are but a general with an army yet nothing to defend. And soon you won’t even be able to feed that army.”

 

“He is not wrong, I am afraid to say, Sir,” Phasma says. She has returned from the fleet for a private conference with Hux and is now occupying one of the guest suites. “If we don’t get a steadier stream of revenue soon, we might just have to declare bankruptcy.”

“We will,” Hux growls. “The Hutt have begun running our money through one of Ro-Kiintor’s men. Just like the rest of the damn Senate, he is not ready to declare official allegiance to me, but he is willing enough to make sure our financial resources won’t dry out.”

“Well, things might turn upwards after all. We have established base on one of the moons in the Arkanis Sector. They might not have any representation in the Senate, like most inhabited moons in the Outer Rim, so they won’t bring you any direct benefits. But they are eager to show their loyalty to us, since our bases mean more income as well as security for them. It’s small, but it’s a first step.”

“A baby step,” Hux mutters. “What even are we, Phasma?”

“Well, we are not yet an empire, but…”

“I don’t like the name insurgency. It doesn’t sound like something that lasts. I want something that lasts. As soon as the damn permits are through the Senate and we can start deploying the fleet, I will change it into something more permanent.”

“A second empire, Sir?”

“Why not? People seem to have grown fond of that idea. They remember the good times of the old Empire, why not exploit that?”

“Indeed. Do you want me to expand our bases to other moons as well?”

“Yes. Once I am Emperor, I will need you to become my general, anyway. For now I still have to stay on Hosnian Prime to work the Senate, but once things run a bit more smoothly, I’ll find myself an ambassador and come to the fleet with you. Let’s work our magic in the Outer Rim and then slowly proceed further to the centre.”

“I have been meaning to ask, Sir, can I get FN 2187 back? It has been almost three months now and I have high hopes for that lad. I think he might make a fine commander someday, but he won’t learn the trade if he stays here on Hosnian Prime.”

“Well,” Hux says bitterly. “That’s a shame, because he won’t be coming. He stayed with the Resistance.”

“What do you mean he stayed with the Resistance?”

“He betrayed us. Apparently he likes his new mate Dameron so much he doesn’t want to leave him anymore.”

Phasma, who has been standing since Hux entered the room, sinks down into a chair. “But he… how could he… I was so certain he would…”

“Yes, well.”

“I chose him exactly because he was so promising… he was smart, creative, quite the spirited trainee, and he had an air of authority with his comrades. What made him suddenly decide to throw all that away?”

“Maybe he was too promising,” Hux mutters. “Who knows what the Resistance offered him for betraying us.”

“Do we just let that happen?”

“I discussed it with General Organa several times. I told her I’d take her son away again, I told her she wouldn’t receive any assistance from us in defending the Republic from the First Order… but she knows only too well that we are not going to cause an incident because of one defecting stormtrooper. The only thing we can try is take him back by force and that would cause a diplomatic incident right here on Hosnian Prime… For now I really don’t see what we can do. I can’t even request that the Republic forces her to give him up, since we are not an officially recognized military organization yet.”

Phasma shakes her head. “If I ever see him again he is dead meat. Painfully suffering dead meat. And he knows about the Starkiller.”

“Yes, General Organa asked me about that. I told her to get me the permit for the fleet and we would talk about it in detail. FN 2187 was never stationed with the Starkiller. Organa tried to play it up, but it is obvious he couldn’t tell her much. They still need my intel if they want to get rid of that thing.”

“Has she told the Senate yet? If they deploy the Starfleet into the Unknown Regions…”

Hux barks out a laugh. “She hasn’t even found the time yet. Right now there are several other battles she has to fight in the Senate. She knows that the Starkiller won’t be ready in the near future so she has decided to employ the same strategy as I have and wait for a more opportune moment to breach the subject. She might just find herself forced to cooperate with me on that issue.”

“I am sure she already hates that idea,” Phasma remarks dryly. “I have decided to swing by the country residence, by the way, in case you want to see Ben…”

“I don’t have the time. I have ten meetings with ambassadors in the next week alone. They might not pledge their official allegiance, but they are still vital to grant me support in the Senate. You’ll have to go alone.”

“I think he misses you. He finds the staff agreeable enough, but he always asks. There isn’t much to do except reading and gardening. He tells me he keeps updated on the developments in the Senate. And then he asks me what you are doing.”

“I can’t help it. The journey takes hours and there are too many things much more important than keeping the kitten happy. For now he will have to content himself with Kander Hoon.”

“And Hoon likes him for sure. A bit too much perhaps. The mental training with Phox seems to proceed smoothly as well. But he has grown attached to you and he respects you and suddenly you are not there anymore. They say he is growing restless again. Trying things with the Force. Not against the staff, of course, but the amount of broken appliances and furniture speaks for itself.”

“Well, that’s why you will be going,” Hux says. “Make sure he behaves himself. You may give him access to the channel that streams from the Senate, though. Since he will become senator one day – and I will see to it that it happens – it might be helpful for him to witness how the Senate works. Or doesn’t work.”

Phasma keeps her eyes on him. “He might learn more from you personally, Sir. Having the senator of Naboo on your side sounds like a strategy worth exploring to me.”

“Don’t say it. His mother is still scouring the capital for him in case I have hidden him here and only lied about taking him to the countryside. As long as her henchmen snoop around this place every day there is no way I can move him closer to the Senate.”

 

Four weeks later Phasma calls him right out of a briefing with his staff. She looks beyond exhausted, Hux notices as he stands in front of the comm monitor.

“Kylo Ren has raided one of the newly established bases,” she says as soon as she sees Hux. “I wasn’t there when it happened, but we received the distress signal. Needless to say I set out at once but when we arrived at the base the people were already dead. Not just our soldiers. Everyone on the moon was slaughtered. Kylo Ren and her Knights personally took care of them. They were thorough. And that’s not all. Look what they have left behind for us.”

Hux opens the file she has transmitted to him. It’s an image of the training ground on the base. Eight bodies lie there on their stomachs, neatly in a row. Kylo Ren has used their backs as canvasses and carved a letter into each of them with her lightsaber quarterstaff.

 

D E S E R T E R

 

Hux stares at the image wordlessly. Finally he switches back to Phasma.

“Nice,” he says. “She’s really got her sense for the dramatic down. Did you encounter her?”

“We thought about pursuing her but she had already left when we arrived. They are back on the mining planets and we didn’t dare follow them there. But Sir, the men are afraid. Not just the recruits but also the villagers. They thought they were safe with us; now something like this happens.”

“We have to pay them back,” Hux says slowly. He doesn’t like it. Kylo Ren is forcing them to react. He should have expected her to do something drastic but he didn’t think she would do it while she was busy with the eastern planets. Obviously the Resistance and the small deployment from the Starfleet do not keep her occupied enough to keep her hands off Hux’s men.

“I am asking permission to attack them in the east, Sir,” Phasma says. “I know you wanted to wait until the permits were approved. But we have to prove that we are not so easily defeated. We need more people to sign up, since the First Order has kept all our sources for new recruits. We won’t achieve that by hiding on our bases with our tails between our legs.”

“I don’t intend to wait on the bases,” Hux says. “Fine. I was really hoping the expectation of our assistance in the defence of those planets would speed up the decision-making of those snails in the Senate. But who knows how long that is going to take? Screw the permit. Prepare the fleet. How many men do you have?”

“About eight thousand, Sir. Ten if I use the older recruits as well.”

“Their training hasn’t been completed yet.”

“I know. But what would be better for them than a bit of field practice? If things go well we will have more than enough volunteers to fill up potential spaces.”

“Get them ready. I will speak to General Organa. For once we have the same objective. I want to join you on the frontline, but I don’t know when it will be possible. You might have to lead the initial encounter yourself.”

“Not a problem, Sir. Believe me, Kylo Ren will regret the day she has decided to mess with me. By the way, one of the captains has suggested we try to take over the Starkiller.”

Hux frowns. “That is the worst idea I have ever heard. We already have issues maintaining the fleet. The Starkiller is nothing but a giant black hole to pour money in. What use would it have to overtake that monstrosity?”

“I told him the same thing, Sir. If we ever wanted to make use of the Starkiller, even if it gave us the firepower to get rid of Kylo Ren, it would be idiotic to annex it before construction has been finished.”

“My thoughts exactly. Let’s have the First Order pay for that beast first and then decide whether we want to keep it for ourselves or destroy it.”

 

Autumn turns into winter before Hux can pry himself away from the Senate long enough to consider a journey to the Outer Rim. Getting his hands on enough resources to turn their insurgency into a working government seemed to go rather well for a while, but then it suddenly hit a slump (he suspects Ro-Kiintor) and forced him to drop his plans to join Phasma on the frontline.

Instead he has to content himself with the reports she sends him daily. They have managed to push back Kylo Ren from the frontline well enough, especially with the help of the Resistance. But reconquering the planets that have already fallen into the hands of the First Order has soon proven to be more cumbersome than the initial encounter led them to believe.

Halfway through those battles Kylo Ren left the fleet and returned to the Supreme Commander. She does that sometimes, Hux knows that. When Snoke decides that he has some secret task for her he will call her back from anywhere and she will follow immediately. She has taken her Knights with her, but the remaining troopers are enough to keep Phasma occupied well into the surprisingly harsh winter on Hosnian Prime.

Part of Hux fears that Snoke’s sudden orders towards Kylo Ren have something to do with Ben so he decides to swing by the country residence before he leaves the planet.

“Seven bloody blazes, you have grown again,” is the first thing that escapes his mouth when he steps into the sitting room. It is bathed in the warm red light of the evening sun.

Ben, who has just finished setting the table, looks up at Hux und pulls down the corners of his lips. He has refused to meet Hux at the entrance and now this.

“What,” Hux asks.

Ben shakes his head and concentrates on the table, back turned to Hux.

“Six months,” he finally mutters. “Six fucking months I do not hear a single word from you and suddenly you show up here and expect me to – what? Run towards you wagging my tail and tell you how great everything has been?”

Hux bridges the distance and takes Ben by the elbow. “Stop that for a moment, will you? I was worried about you.”

Ben purses his lips. “Because you think Snoke has gotten to me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Kander told me.”

“Hoon talks too much. Has he?”

“No. He tried. I talked it over with Phox. I am strong enough to shut him out. I am also strong enough to read the staff’s minds and to get rid of the fence around the garden if I wanted to. I am not doing that because I have literally nowhere to go and the vehicles are locked to the staff so I can’t even drive them. But I could.”

“That’s nice, Ben. Does Snoke know where you are?”

“No. I am not stupid. I didn’t tell him anything. I tried establishing contact with my uncle, though. Turns out that doesn’t work either. He told me once it worked with people who are strongly connected. Now I am beginning to wonder whether we are related at all, if I can’t even talk to him via the damn Force.”

“Maybe it’s not about blood-ties.”

“Don’t talk to me like you understand. Go away.”

“I will leave tomorrow anyway. I am joining Phasma in the Outer Rim. She came by a few times, didn’t she? And you have the staff, after all. And the garden. What happened to the vegetable patch?”

“It’s winter,” Ben hisses. “Notice the sweater. It gets cold as fuck around here. Try raising vegetables in the snow. And the staff are staff. And Phasma hasn’t been here for three months now. She is too busy fighting Kylo Ren. Maybe I should go dark side after all. At least then you guys would bother yourselves with me.”

“Stop being pissy,” Hux says. “We are still in the transition period. Things will calm down after a while. And what do you mean the staff are staff, you little snob?”

Ben rubs his forehead and turns away again. “They are fine I guess. They’re not you.”

“Come here, sit down,” Hux says. He drags a reluctant Ben to the couch and settles down next to him. “I don’t like leaving you alone for so long. You are getting ideas, obviously. But I have to go to the east for now to check on the troops. Phasma is fighting for our survival out there, do you get that?”

“Take me along, then,” Ben says. “I could learn something.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. We are trying to keep you away from Snoke and Kylo Ren, not deliver you into their arms.”

“I’d have a whole fleet to protect me.”

“Still, you’re safer down here. Once I return I will take a few days off. I am sick of the Senate anyway. I will find myself an ambassador. Let him take over for a while. I will stay here, make sure you don’t kilgrave the staff or call the Jedi for rescue.”

“Do you still keep the kyber crystals?”

“Of course I do. And I mean it, if even one Jedi shows up on our doorstep, it’s back into those Force-bonds with you.” Hux lifts his hand and touches Ben’s chin. “You are shaving I see. It’s still a bit sloppy but at least you’re looking civilized again.”

Ben grimaces but he doesn’t pull away. “Kander bought me a razor and showed me how to use it. I still think I’d look wicked with a beard, though.”

“I can still assure you it wouldn’t be worth being called a beard.”

Hux strokes a few strands of hair out of Ben’s face. Still with a pout on his lips Ben ducks his head into the touch. Hux continues to stroke the black curls while Ben’s eyes falls slowly shut and he leans against the backrest of the couch. His tongue pushes against the soft red lips. Hux keeps his eyes fixed on those lips. Ben is reacting surprisingly compliant to his touch. It leaves a part of him wondering what else he would allow him to do.

Hux turns his head. As much as the boy has grown in the last year he is still a child.

“So when’s supper?” Hux asks instead.

“No supper for you,” Ben replies in a soft hum that almost sounds like a purr. “I am still angry at you for prioritizing the Senate over me.”

“You’re a piece of work, kitten, you know that?”

“Right back at you.”


	11. The General And The Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day that Wookiee is gonna be the death of me... the amount of times I simply almost forgot about Chewie - I'm so sorry!  
> Anyway, important talks and stuff happening!

Hux returns to Hosnian Prime when the news arrive that the Senate has approved the official recognition of his fleet. After he and Phasma have begun participating in the fight around the eastern mining planets support for their cause has risen dramatically.

“Congratulations,” Korr Sella says after the Senate session. “You have finally achieved recognition. The question is, what will you do with it?” Ever since Organa has left the capital to lead the Resistance against the First Order it has been Sella who represented her in the Senate. It’s not hard to see that the general is grooming her to take over as senator. The air is getting tight in the capital for Leia Organa herself. Hux knows that she would prefer nothing more than to never return to the Senate again.

“No need for you to be worried,” Hux returns. “We do not plan on waging war against your Resistance.”

“Well, you are withdrawing from the east,” Sella remarks. “Where else would you turn your fleet now?”

He doesn’t answer her, of course. Kylo Ren and her Knights have left the battlefield months ago and didn’t return. Since it is primarily her Hux wants to take revenge on, he doesn’t see reason anymore to waste his soldiers on a war that runs itself well enough without him.

“It certainly keeps General Organa and most of the Senate remarkably busy,” Plius, his own mild-mannered but pleasantly sharp ambassador, informs him. “The Core Mining Conglomerate has been lobbying for a stronger participation of the Starfleet and everyone who is opposing the Resistance has chimed in. Things have gone wild. Last week someone started throwing pastries. It would be a wise choice indeed to leave the battle now that all our opponents are quarrelling with each other. Several empiric remnants in the Colonies show willingness to declare official allegiance to us as soon as we establish a proper empire. They are sick and tired of the childish fights in the Senate.”

“Any word from Kylo Ren?” Hux asks. “I would like to finish her off once and for all, but we can’t do that as long as she holes herself up in the Unknown Regions with Snoke.”

Plius shakes his head. “Not Kylo Ren herself, Sir, but there has been an attack on the Jedi academy. It might have nothing to do with the First Order, though. Skywalker is lobbying once again for granting his order official status as ambassadors of the Republic. You know, he wants to play peacemaker in the Galaxy, just like the Jedi did before the Empire. Not everyone likes that idea.”

“I don’t like it, either,” Hux says. “The Jedi have no diplomatic training whatsoever. All they ever do is play with the Force. We are opposing that. The less influence the Jedi have the better.”

“Do you want to directly work against the Jedi, Sir? They prove rather resilient against attacks from ordinary soldiers.”

“I am not stupid enough to send them assassins. But we still have informants in the First Order, don’t we? Let’s see if we can lure out Kylo Ren and her Knights. Even better if we don’t have to battle her ourselves. As long as Skywalker is busy with her, he won’t have time to annoy the Senate.”

“Very well. I have assigned you a unit to accompany you to Hutt Space. I have to admit, I was rather expecting Captain Phasma to join you, though.”

Hux takes the sheets Plius hands him. “Phasma is on her way to Phindar already. We have established contact with them and they have sent us a distress signal. The planets on the Outer Rim take notice and in turn, so does the Republic.”

“Yes, there have equally been cries to respect the rights of sentient non-human races and to defend our people against ‘those wild beasts’. Between you and Senator Organa the entire Senate is becoming more polarized than ever, Sir.”

“If things get too wild I will feed them Ro-Kiintor’s secrets and force him to go public with his support of the First Order,” Hux mutters. “Let’s see how polarized that will make them. I just wish we could win Naboo over from the Organa faction. For a planet not even in the Core Worlds, it has always had surprisingly large influence.”

Plius smiles quietly. “Well, I have checked their official records, Sir. It looks like the Queen won’t be Queen anymore once he turns eighteen. I doubt they will grant a second term of office to a hostage. That means that one year later he will be able to run for senator, though, as long as his hostage status gets eliminated during that year. Do you want me to look into ways to make that possible?”

“You do that. I will be in the country residence for the next few days, anyway. I need a break from starship travel before I make my way to the Hutt. Why can’t they come to Hosnian Prime like any normal ambassador, anyway?”

Plius doesn’t answer that and Hux doesn’t expect him to.

The entire countryside is caught in a raging snow storm. The journey takes even longer than usually, but at least Hux can be almost certain that it is impossible to follow them through the terrible weather.

He finds Ben in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. Even through the thick window panes of the garden front they can hear the howling of the storm. The garden has vanished. Instead Hux looks out into a sea of swirling white.

“Nice,” he says as he settles down in the armchair.

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t witnessed the other four,” Ben complains. He crawls across the carpet until he is sitting at Hux’s feet. He has drawn a blanket around his shoulders in addition to the thick woollen jumper he is wearing. “It’s supposed to be spring already. Yesterday the Hyacinths were blossoming so strongly the entire house was filled with their scent.” He points out of the window. “I’m pretty sure they’re all dead now.”

“See, I’ve been feeling the same way about the base Kylo Ren attacked,” Hux says. “And just like the blizzard out there it’s almost impossible to reign her in. Tell me what you’ve been up to, kitten.”

“Nothing,” Ben mumbles. “There is nothing to do here. I listen to the discussions in the Senate, but you weren’t lying. They are so boring they mostly make me fall asleep. And I can’t just read all day. Phox has shown me some meditation techniques that help me access the Force without losing control. I can sense all the living beings around me. I can feel things being born and die. I feel the flow of the Force in the snow storm out there and in the ground and in the universe around us.”

“Well, that sounds nice.”

“Does it? Do you know why I can feel it? Because I am so bored that sitting quietly for hours and listening to things living and dying is still the most entertaining thing to do around here.”

“Is that why you tried to break into the communication room? Hoon told me about that. Who would you have called anyway?”

Ben shrugs. He turns half around so he can look at Hux and lowers his chin onto Hux’s knee. “I don’t know. You. Poe, maybe. Is he still in the capital?”

“Most of the time. I think right now he has travelled to your mother in the east. There is a Jedi in his stead now, lurking around all the time. Skywalker really seems desperate.”

“Can you blame him? He probably thinks I have halfway run over to the dark side already.”

“Have you?”

“I haven’t done anything. I never do anything. I sit around and listen to the birds out there. That’s it. Now it’s your turn. After all, you are the one who has all the adventures while I am wasting my youth as a hermit. Tell me everything.”

Hux does. He tells Ben of the discussions in the Senate and the official recognition of their fleet, he tells him of the planets that have begun to support them and the right-wing hardliners that even Hux stays away from, of the battles against the First Order, of Phasma, who led a courageous attack on one of the planets and chased off the First Order for good, of their attempt to secure themselves a share in the planet’s gas deposits and of his plans to travel to Hutt Space to discuss finances with the Hutt in person. All the while he keeps stroking the silky black curls that are growing back faster than rank weeds. Ben has leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. His warm breath ghosts over Hux’s skin.

“Are you still listening, kitten?” Hux asks eventually.

“Yes,” Ben murmurs without moving. “Go on.”

As the blizzard quiets down and the sky outside gets darker the servants come in with tea. Hux and Ben move to the couch behind the coffee table.

“You could take me with you to Hutt Space,” Ben says as soon as they have settled down. “It’s not a war front. You can’t argue it’s too dangerous.”

Hux shakes his head. “Of course I can argue it’s too dangerous. There are enough Hutt who would love to get their hands on you. Either to keep you for themselves or to deliver you to Snoke. I’d rather send you to Phasma on the frontline than take you to the Hutt.”

“Do that then,” Ben suggests.

“What do you want to do at the frontline? You think it’s boring here? Over there you will be sitting in a Destroyer all day and wait for the reports on how many casualties we have had and how far we have made the enemy retreat.”

“The capital, then. Anywhere. I’d literally go anywhere just to escape this place. Please, give me something to do.”

“We have been discussing the capital for quite a while, Phasma and I,” Hux says and Ben’s face lights up. “But not before you have turned eighteen. As long as you’re Queen there are too many parties who hold an interest in you. Not all of them are friendly. Some of the right-wings would kill you first chance they get. Things will calm down a bit once you’re without title.”

“But then I’ll be able to go out?” Ben asks. “I’ve read about the capital. Ever since Hosnian Prime became seat of the Senate, security on all public places has grown like crazy. There have been so many attacks and assassination attempts that it is practically impossible to move through the centre of the capital without being caught on surveillance cameras and tailed by several guards.”

“That about sums it up, yes. And you honestly believe I would simply let you out there?”

Ben shrugs. “Why not? Nobody could do anything against it.”

“I could just as well shout your presence from the rooftops. Or send your mother a personal invitation.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s a bad thing for me.”

“She will find out anyway, you know. You can’t keep me locked away forever.”

“Are you that eager to get away from me?”

Ben presses his lips together. He doesn’t look at Hux. “I have been causing her inconvenience for long enough now. She would never support you in anything you do. I am forcing her to do that. It makes me feel dirty.”

Hux smirks. “It does, huh? Do you want me to tell you more about how she hates having to talk to me when all she really wants to do is rip my throat out? I think every time she has to make concessions to me, all for your sake, she dies a little inside.”

“You’re a twat, Hux.”

“Dameron is even more fun than her. Sometimes he looks like he is close to chewing his own hands off in frustration. A real watchdog, that one. He is still being so overprotective of you, I can’t help but wonder what the hell you did to get him to fall for you so completely. Were you fucking him?”

Eyes gone wide Ben scoots to the end of the couch, as far away from Hux as possible. “You’re disgusting!”

“That’s a no then?”

“Of course it’s a no! I have never… I would never…”

“What? Fuck another man? Only women for you?”

Ben shakes his head furiously. “Neither. Ever. I’d never want to do that with anybody…”

Hux raises both eyebrows. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re seventeen years old. One would expect you to be hornier than a dog in heat.”

“Well, I’m not. I’ve just never felt the desire to… do that.”

“Have sex. You can say it, you know, it won’t bite you back.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Fine. I don’t care about sex. I don’t wanna do it. It seems… boring to me.”

Hux bursts out laughing. “That is without a doubt the strangest thing I have ever heard a seventeen year old say,” he muses. “Well, you might change your mind yet. Dameron most certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re truly disgusting. Poe would never see me that way.”

Still laughing, Hux shakes his head. “Oh, you have no idea, kitten. Believe me when I say he does. And how do you know you wouldn’t have fun?”

“Why should I if I don’t even feel the desire to initiate it?”

“Hmm.” Hux raises his hand and strokes his thumb across Ben’s jaw. Ben returns his gaze without flinching. “It’s a real pity, though. With such a beautiful face and body… there must be enough men – and women – who wouldn’t say no to that. Who says you wouldn’t be enjoying yourself?”

“What, you think you can convince me to change my mind?” Ben asks dryly.

“Would that be so bad?” Hux moves closer. He runs his fingers over Ben’s cheek. The skin feels rough where he has to shave already, but soft as feathers everywhere else. “You’re practically begging for it with those huge brown eyes and the way you move your tongue against your lips as if you really needed a cock in there. Doubt that? Ask literally anyone.”

“So your strategy is to show me how fun sex can be by saying I am asking to be raped?” Ben asks. He still doesn’t move. He doesn’t show even a little bit of fear at Hux’s insinuations.

Hux drops his hand. “You’re taking the fun out of it.”

Ben cocks his eyebrows. “That’s what I was trying to do, yes.”

“You are the one coming on to me all the time begging for hugs and caresses.”

“Just because I need normal physical contact like any human being I am not inviting you to fuck me.”

“Most people would argue that sex is something human beings need, too.”

“Well, I don’t. Now you know.”

“Thanks for the lesson,” Hux replies sardonically. “You should tell the others, too, especially Phasma. Make sure she doesn’t come on to you.”

“Oh, now you’re just being an arsehole. Besides, Phasma knows.”

“She does? Why? Was she trying to come on to you?”

“Do stop with your nauseating insinuations. No, it was much, much worse. When the medication stopped working and my body started catching up with my age, she thought it a good idea to sit me down and talk to me about… well, changes that come with the hormones.”

Hux almost chokes on his laughter. Ben pulls a grimace.

“She tried to explain to me that certain needs would be natural, so I explained to her that I have never felt those needs and that I am most certainly not starting now. We talked about it a lot after that. And see, _she_ , contrary to _you_ , told me that it was perfectly okay and that some people just never feel any sexual attraction and if I don’t feel the desire to initiate it there really is no reason why I should force myself to try it, just because everyone tells me how much they need it and wanna do it. So I’m sticking with her advice, thank you very much.”

“Yes, I am certain that was a relief to her,” Hux muses, still smirking. “One less teenage boy she has to witness turning into a rampaging hormonal disaster. I have lost count of how many times she has walked into the trainees’ quarters to burst in on a bunch of recruits doing anything imaginable – and quite a lot of things you wouldn’t even dream of or deem possible – with their genitals and any kind of orifices available. I usually have to take her drinking afterwards to help her forget, because otherwise she would just gouge her eyes out. Sometimes I think it’s a small wonder she hasn’t turned into an alcoholic yet.”

Ben shudders. “I don’t even want to know.”

“No, you really don’t.”

They don’t talk about it anymore. Two days later Ben returns to his habit of relentlessly invading Hux’s personal space. He allows Hux to stroke his hair and his neck, even his throat. But when Hux drops his hands below Ben’s waist, they get immediately caught by slender, albeit strong fingers and he looks into cool brown eyes below raised eyebrows.

“One day you’ll change your mind and I won’t be available anymore,” Hux threatens. “And then you’ll have no choice but to content yourself with Dameron. See how that feels.”

“Well, at least Poe isn’t such an arsehole all the time. Shouldn’t you be leaving for Hutt Space soon? Suddenly I find myself craving the solitude that comes with your absence.”

 

Shana finds Poe in the record room, playing through the last message they received from Ben again. He has just arrived back from their base in the east. The general welcomed him to stay longer, but eventually he decided he would feel more at ease in the capital, with at least a slight chance to somehow free Ben.

“Again?” Shana asks. “You must have watched that thing a thousand times already.”

“I'm still hoping to detect some hidden clues in there that will help us find him,” Poe replies and drops his hands into his lap. “Ben must be desperate for a way to get us to free him.”

Shana shrugs. “The general didn't find any, I'm not sure you'll be more successful than her.” She sits down next to Poe and studies Ben's face on the screen. “He has grown quite a lot, hasn't he? He was so small and frail when he left Naboo. Look at him, he is looking like half a man already.” She leans forward and squints. “And he'll have to shave soon. You know, General Organa is still so worried, because Hux doesn't allow the Force-bonds anymore, but when I look at him in that message I'm really thinking it might have been for the best.”

“Yeah,” Poe mutters. “He certainly has grown, hasn't he?”

Shana unpauses the message. For a brief moment, a smile flashes across Ben's face. It transforms the entire face; Ben’s eyes light up and he suddenly changes from earnest boy to a young man who carries a sweetness within him that hasn’t had chance to ripen yet.

He always had that, of course. He was already beautiful when he was still small, with white porcelain skin and huge brown eyes, too big for his face, and those soft, trembling lips that made him look so afraid all the time.

He wonders, sometimes, whether Ben had still been that small when Hux for the first time took what wasn't his to take. Whether he still had the soft line along his jaw, and the broken voice. Had it been that broken voice that begged Hux to stop? Had he left marks on that pure porcelain skin, blood-red on snow-white? A sadist like Hux, he must have enjoyed the tears and the begging so damn much. It probably made him go even rougher. Just thinking about it leaves Poe trembling with rage.

_If I ever meet that general again, I don’t care if they arrest me. They can shoot me for all I care. He is going to pay._

“... I mean, it's not like General Hux is gonna need Ben much longer,” Shana is saying. Poe bans all thoughts of Hux violating Ben away and turns his attention back to her. “Almost the entire revisionist faction of the Senate has started eating out of his hand ever since he has begun to talk about a new empire. He has found his footing. He has even found enough planets willing to support him with resources. What does he still need the Queen for?”

“Especially since in less than a week the Queen is turning eighteen and with that he will officially not be Queen anymore,” Poe agrees. “I’m not willing to bet on Hux’s leniency however. If we find a chance to get Ben out of there we will grasp it.”

Shana stands up and Poe follows her out of the record room down to the common area. Everybody is lurking around here, at least everybody who hasn’t followed General Organa into the east. The closer the Queen’s birthday draws, the more nervous the general is growing about spending time in the capital. She will relinquish her seat in the Senate to Korr Sella the same day Ben will end his term of regency. Just because she isn’t senator anymore doesn’t mean that certain factions in the capital would hesitate to have her killed, though. Still, Poe will be glad when she has shed that particular responsibility. With both the First Order and the insurgency that likes to believe itself an empire, the Resistance has been terribly busy recently.

Down in the common area Poe finds Finn at one of the tables. Han Solo is trying to teach Finn one of his little holo-games that looks like a mixture of chess and beat-em-up. Finn doesn’t look too thrilled. Solo's first mate is watching them from the corner. He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a shriek each time Finn moves a soldier.

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” Finn insists. “The foot soldiers should make more damage than those monsters.”

“Look at them, they’re huge-ass beasts,” Solo returns. “You can’t tell me they’re weaker than one tiny human.”

“But the soldiers are trained. Those beasts are savages. Clearly the soldiers have the advantage. Besides, I still have five of them, if they surround the beast and attack it from...”

“No can do,” Solo says and flicks a switch. Suddenly three of Finn’s foot soldiers clutch their chests where red flowers sprout and drop to the ground. “Accept it, Finn, you’re dead.”

Finn shoots upwards and stares at the game board with a petrified look.

Poe lays a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “It's just a game,” he says gently. “Someone made those rules. They’re completely arbitrary.”

“We used to play through simulations like this,” Finn says with an edge in his voice. “There is no way a group of well-organized soldiers would lose to a savage beast that easily.”

“It’s not a simulation, it’s a children’s game. I don’t know why Solo still plays it. Look, the blood is depicted as actual red flowers. And that beast... Everyone knows that those sand bulls only have two horns. They upgraded it, to four horns and six legs. It’s completely unrealistic.”

“Yeah it is,” Finn says with a very pretty, broody face.

Poe turns to Han Solo. “I hear General Hux has returned to Hosnian Prime.”

“He has,” Solo responds. “It’s nauseating how the Senate is eating out of his hand. His captain is practically slaughtering the Phindians in the Outer Rim, but everyone is suddenly grateful of how he takes matters into his own hands.”

Finn takes a few quick steps back. “I’ll get some tea,” he mumbles before he bolts.

Poe follows him with his eyes until the door falls shut behind Finn. He seems to have settled well enough into the Resistance, but still, he leaves the room every time the guys start talking about his former superiors. Since there is barely anything Poe and the other pilots enjoy as much as bashing Hux and his people, Finn running from a room and being found in the kitchen or at the shooting range hours later is an almost daily phenomenon.

“I should have been more considerate,” Poe says now.

Solo gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’ll have to get used to it sooner or later. You don’t run over to the enemy and expect them to be all understanding about your former bosses.”

“Sometimes when I let him talk he starts ranting,” Poe says. “About everything the First Order did. About how they treated the stormtroopers, how they murdered without remorse, how he and his guys were practically worthless to their officers. But each time one of mine dares say a word about them, he becomes defensive.”

“It would have done him some good to hear about what his former captain is doing on Phindar,” Solo says. “They basically committed genocide on the indigenous race. All in the name of humankind. And the Senate loves it.”

“That is just sick. They talk about respecting non-human life-forms and then they offer him money to eradicate them.”

“You know,” Solo says. “We might not be able to help those poor bastards on Phindar, but Hux is here right now. Who says he won’t be visiting Ben soon? I say we follow him and this time we stay on his tail.”

Poe shakes his head. “We tried that every time he left the capital already. They seem to know exactly where we are and when to get rid of us.”

“That’s because you use officially registered vehicles,” Solo explains. Chewie has come closer. He gives Solo an approving grunt. “I know people who can get us something that I guarantee you won’t be traceable by anyone. We can stay completely off the radar. Get on his tail when he leaves and stay there while he is busy getting rid of the official Resistance trackers.”

Poe leans forward. Solo sounds as if he had a real, proper plan this time. Maybe together they can find a way to free Ben, after all. Wouldn’t that be a nice birthday present for the boy? “I’m listening.”

 

Han Solo leads Poe down from the high city the next day. They end up in a labyrinth of narrow alleys that leads them to a junkyard, about as big as Cloud City.

Solo has started his little expedition by warning Poe to “stay as inconspicuous as possible.” Ever since Poe casts doubtful glances at the Wookiee trudging next to him. As they get further into the lower city, however, the human population quickly dwindles and other races take over. Soon Chewie is the one standing out the least in the chaotic mixture of inhabitants from all over the Galaxy. At leadt both Poe and Solo decided to wear practical gear instead of Hosnian Prime fashion. No one here bothers with that.

Poe stops at the large sign next to the entrance, which declares the entire area a toxic waste disposal site.

“Should we go in there?” he asks.

Solo opens the gate, allows Chewie through, and jerks his head to indicate to Poe to get his butt moving. “It’s a trick,” he says impatiently. “To keep the cops away from here. They’re refurbishing and reselling starships, air-cars, and droids here. You want something the authorities can’t trace? There's no better place than here.”

Poe, who was just about to enter, stops dead in his tracks. “That’s highly illegal.”

“Shout it out a little louder, why don’t you,” Solo says with his best irritated look. “What did you expect, we pay the DMV a visit and get ourselves an officially approved Bad-Guys-Tailing-Vehicle?”

“Those air-cars were stolen,” Poe says. He takes a proper look around. Men and women in rags gather around some of the machines. They replace old parts, repair engines, and repaint the exteriors. “And the people working here don’t have permits. Look at this, this place is a safety hazard. I’m not sure I can condone this mission.”

“You don’t have to condone it, you just have to keep your mouth shut until we're out of here,” Solo says and gives Poe a push.

“I swore to protect everyone and to fight for a better system. If I take a stolen air-car from a place that practically works with slave labour, how am I better than the guys we try to defeat? Those rules exist to protect people.”

Solo huffs. “And that’s fine as long as they protect people. Right now they’re doing nothing to help Ben. Who can blame us if we decide to take the law into our own hands? The system you’re trying to serve is the same system that allows my son to remain prisoner right under their nose.”

Slowly, Poe follows Han Solo and his first mate across the junkyard to the shabby barracks leaning against a second fence. “I still don’t feel comfortable with this. The people here work under abysmal conditions. And it’s plain to see that there is indeed toxic waste lying all around. We should report this place.”

“What good would that do?” Solo's mood is dropping lower by the minute. “They’d just move somewhere else and never do business with me again. As long as we’re in there, keep your mouth shut and leave the talking to me, understood?”

It goes against anything Poe has ever believed in. It is places like this one that turn into a poverty trap for ordinary workers and that make it harder for people who arrive here hoping to make a living to escape the grind.

He was supposed to be better than this. He swore to himself never to look away.

When Solo enters the barracks, leaving the Wookiee outside to keep an eye on the surroundings, and commences his haggling with the seller inside, Poe keeps his mouth shut and his head low and he feels dirtier than ever before.

 


End file.
